Brotherband Chronicles
by Mosgem
Summary: At age 5, Annabeth Chase was abandoned on the beach. At age twelve, she graduated from Sea School in England and joined the navy. At age 16, her ship was taken over and destroyed by Greek Pirates. Now, taken hostage by the Greeks, she must either escape or come to accept her attraction for the raven haired, green-eyed captain of the Argo. Percabeth.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I realize I already have two pretty successful stories at the moment, but this one's been at the corner of my mind for a while now, and I really wanted to get it down on paper. I may not be continuing this, based on views/reviews, although unless it's a dismal failure I probably will continue it. **

**Let me clear a couple of things up: this is a very, very AU story. The British rule most of the world, although they don't know what lies across the Atlantic Ocean. They do know that west of them are the ancient lands of the Greeks— savages who sail up and down the ocean plundering and pillaging whatever they come across. The Greek gods do exist, although the Demi-gods don't have powers, unless mass reviews say otherwise. **

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_Diary of Annabeth Chase_

It was a calm day at sea today— gentle swells lapping at the side of the boat, but not much more. The sun was shining brightly on the deck and I could hear the men bustling around upstairs. The crew of the _S.S Arthur_ never slept, it seemed.

I was currently standing on the port side of the massive ship, enjoying the sea breeze that made my long golden hair fly in the win. It was common courtesy for a lady to wear her hair up when she was outside, but none of the crewmembers cared if I broke the rules, probably because I was their best navigator.

_Lieutenant _Annabeth Chase, that is. At age five, I was found on the beach of England, deserted by my parents and left to die. I would have, had I not been spotted by no other than the legendary Frederick Chase— not of bloodline, incase you were wondering. He spotted me from out at sea and sent men in rowboats to collect me.

From there, I had been sent to Sea School— common for boys my age, but I was the first girl to be admitted. At age twelve, I graduated top of my class and was assigned to the ship _S.S Arthur, _where I was currently working. Our job, as under the command of King Arthur IV, was to act as the law keepers of the sea— we sailed from England to Spain and back again, sometimes hugging the coast, sometimes going as far out as maps allowed. We sank ships, we picked up strays, and we conquered islands.

_Veni, Vedi, Vici. _That was our motto. We came, we saw, we conquered, all under the kings name. Our Captain, Octavian, was a brutal man, but a brilliant one non the less. Any foreign land we came across, we were permitted to engage in warfare and conquer for England.

It was around noon when the shout went up, from the lookout point:

"Ship-ho!"

I pulled my telescope from my pocket, flipped it open with a clean snap of my wrist and peered through it. Sure enough, there was another ship— at least twice the size of ours, wide and slow, flying the Spanish flag. It sat in the water, unmoving. It looked like…

"Galleon!" I yelled, closing my telescope and sprinting to the crows' nest. Several people had already made the same assumption as me and were running around excitedly; a Spanish Galleon floating helpless in the waters was not something you saw every day. Already, Octavian was appearing from his cabin, sword clutched in his hand.

"I hear Galleon!" he said excitedly. He had sharp features and blonde hair, around twenty-five. Usually to young to be commanding a ship of this importance, but with his over-average intelligence and letters of recommendation, there was no way to turn him down.

"Thirteen degrees port, sir!" one of the men yelled. Octavian pulled out his own telescope and opened it, peering out at the ship that was now just a smudge on the horizon.

"Well I'll be dammed," he said quietly. "A Spanish Galleon, floating helpless in the waters. What'd you think might happen to it, lads?" he turned towards the crew.

"It might catch fire," One suggested mischievously.

"It could easily be mistaken for a pirate ship," another one grinned. I understood where they were going: Galleons were the floating banks of the Spanish Navy, stacked high with gold and precious jewels. No man, honest or not, could turn down an opportunity like this.

"Aye, I could see that happening," Octavian agreed. He turned his eyes to me. "What say you?"

"Well," I answered, studying it carefully. "It obviously got separated from the fleet that was sailing to France a couple of months ago. I say, under present circumstances and the obvious bad weather, it would be easy to mistake the Galleon as an enemy ship. I think we would sink it, the treasure sadly lost in the depths."

"Aye," Octavian agreed quietly. "I could see that happening." Then he turned to the rest of the men. "Full speed ahead! Raise the sails! Turn towards the Galleon! We'll be feasting like kings tonight, boys!"

Slowly, we made out way across smooth sea, gliding at a speed of twelve knots— the fastest ever achieved by a ship of our size. The Galleon grew larger and larger— small in comparison to some, but no doubt packed with enough gold and gems to keep us all happy for the rest of our lives.

And yet, something wasn't right. The Galleon was sitting far too high in the water. Should it have been packed with treasure, it would have been low in the waves, the weight of all the gold bringing it down. But it sat nearly three-quarters out of the sea.

I tried to explain the to Octavian, but he just shrugged it off, his eyes alight with gold fever, and told me to get ready to board. Shrugging off my suspicion, I went to grab a hat and a cloth bag to fill with treasure— my own keep.

We were within firing range now, but no move was made for the cannons. We would only sink the ship once we had looted it of everything valuable, from gold and treasures down to candles and coils of rope. We weren't common pirates. We were crusaders of the King, and this was our duty. It was required that two-thirds of out loot immediately be transferred to the royalty of Britain— a calculation that I would no doubt have to make, once we were done. Still, if this Galleon held half as much treasure as normal, none of us would ever have to worry about money again.

We were even closer now— about five hundred meters, no more. Almost all our men were ready to board, armed with grappling hooks and planks of wood.

And that's when things started to go wrong.

Suddenly, bubbles began to erupt around the ship, bursting to the surface and popping. Our ship swayed— not an alarming amount, but enough to make the men pause. The 'Galleon' was sinking rapidly, turning as it lowered into the water with calculated precision. My mind was whirling with a hundred different possibilities; maybe there was a hull in the ship, or some sort of fail-safe to sink if enemy boats approached? But even I couldn't predict what happened next.

With a _whoop, _lines shot out from the other ship and latched onto our bow. The pulled taunt in an instant and we lurched dangerously_, _sending men stumbling. The Spanish flag erupted in flames, burning away in a second, and in it's place another flag now flapped in the wind: black, with a Greek Omega and the symbol on a staff with two snakes wrapped around it.

"Pirates!" I yelled frantically, recognizing the symbol in an instant. The Marauders of the Greek sea, they rarely ventured up into our waters, although when they did they left destruction in their wake.

"PIRATES!" Octavian bellowed. "MAN THE CANNONS! LOWER THE SAILS!" Men were now scrambling around, all thoughts of riches gone from their mind. Now it was all about survival. I pulled my pistol out, checked it was loaded and prepared for a fight. I may have been a lady, but that didn't mean I couldn't protect myself— least against a good-for-nothing untrained pirate. They were savages, the lot of them.

The air was suddenly filled with soft, almost inaudible _twangs_. I looked around, bemused, but saw nothing. What was that sound?

Then I saw the arrow hit the deck, and understood in a second. Bows and arrows! Who used those anymore? The least they could do is get some real weapons, besides swords and arrows.

Despite the primitive weapons, their aim was impressive. Men were dropping left and right, impaled through the eyes or the throat. I heard a soft _whoosh_ of air, and before I could react one was sticking out of my arm. The pain was incredible— not unlike a bullet, I would be willing to bet.

And then I saw them— the Greek Pirates, making their way across the ropes, armed with swords and clubs. No match for our guns, surely— but I wasn't so confident. I raised my pistol and fired a shot, watching with satisfaction as one of the men splashed into the water, dead. That would teach them to mess with Annabeth Chase.

And then they were aboard out ship, swinging their swords and yelling savagely. I saw one— a black haired boy, taller than the others and with a sense of power and authority around him. He was dressed in silver and green armor, with a bronze sword and a shield to match. And he was wreaking utter havoc— spinning across the deck, knocking men overboard and slashing with his sword. Our men fought back, but there were too many Greeks, and we were already weakened from the arrows. I hunkered beneath a crate of food, pistol clutched tightly in one hand. I could have rushed into the fight, but I didn't. I had to wait, see how this would play out, and then strike when they were least expecting it.

The battle was over in mere minutes— mainly due to the raven haired boy and two others— one short with dark hair as well, the other with bright blond hair and blue eyes, much like Octavian.

When the last of our men had either surrendered or were dead, the Captain stepped forwards— about nineteen, with sandy blonde hair, sharp blue eyes and holding a large, thick sword. He smiled as he looked at the swift precision his men had taken down mine.

"Is the ship secure?" he asked. The raven-haired boy stepped forwards. He was unscathed save a cut on his arm, but it didn't seem to be bothering him. The arrow in my arm, on contrast, hurt a great deal.

"It's ours, Luke," he said. "I told you my plan would work."

The Captain—Luke— smiled. "Don't let it get to you, Percy," he said. His eyes twinkled with humor, and I had to wonder if he really was a pirate. They were supposed to be a savage lot, but these people seemed almost organized. Humane. Civilized.

Luke strode closer to me, and I saw my chance. I may die, but I would at least kill their captain, and I didn't have much to live for. My friends were dead and my ship was taken over. I might as well go out in a blaze of glory.

Taking a deep breath, I made sure my gun was loaded, before popping up, cocking back the hammer and shooting Luke in between the eyes. He was fast, but not fast enough. My bullet was already in the air when he turned to look at me. The last thing he saw was my defiant face, before he was shoved backwards into the railing of the ship.

"Luke!" the other blond yelled, streaking forwards towards me with his sword raised. I rolled to the side and leveled my gun, but he kicked it away and swung his sword again with a savage yell.

Just as it was about to reach my neck, ending my life, a sword appeared and blocked the blade, mere inches from my neck. I gasped involuntarily and looked up to see my savior. It was Percy, the raven haired, green-eyed boy who was currently glowering at Luke.

"Stand down, Jason," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. Jason glared defiantly back at him.

"She killed Luke!" he exclaimed. "You're protecting her?"

"She may be English, but she's still human," Percy reasoned, giving the slightest nudge with his blade, but Jason didn't withdraw, just continued to glare at his opponent.

"You're protecting the English?" he demanded. "They think us to be savages!"

"Then we must give them no greater reason to assume that!" Percy snapped. In a lightning fast maneuver, he disarmed Jason and sheathed his own sword. "I'm first mate, and Luke is dead. Do you know what that makes me?"

"Captain," Jason muttered bitterly. Percy nodded.

"And by your sworn oath to the gods, you're under my rule," he said. "Now stand down." I had to stifle a laugh. Gods? As in plural? What kind of idiots were they? There was only one god, our divine creator, and anyone who said otherwise deserved to be burned at the stake.

"Besides," Percy continued quietly. "Look at her eyes, Jason." Jason cast a look at my grey eyes, and his own grew larger with realization. Slowly, reluctantly, he stepped back and nodded.

"Right!" Percy bellowed. "Will, Piper, searched the crows nest for maps. The rest of you, loot the place. Anything of any sort of value I want brought back onto the Argo. Jason go back to the ship and arm the ballista's.

Jason seemed to enjoy this. "Greek or normal fire, sir?" he asked. Percy considered for a moment.

"She's a big ship," he eventually answered. "Greek fire, but make sure to shoot quickly. We wouldn't want to burn down the ship, now would we?"

"No, sir," Jason smiled and headed back on the ropes, leaving me alone with Percy. Resentment and disgust bubbled in my stomach. Alone with a pirate. I would rather die than be held captive by the savages.

And yet, when I looked into Percy's eyes, my heart leaped, just a little. I tried to ignore it, but it was definitely there. He stared at me cautiously, almost like he didn't know what to think of me. At a great length, he said:

"You fight well." He didn't add _for a girl_, which I wasn't used to. Almost everyone said that, like they thought girls couldn't fight. Percy obviously new better.

"I've had training," I told him obnoxiously. "Kings Court training, he best training in all of the world."

"Clearly," he smirked, throwing his shield back over his shoulder. It was ingrained with Greek letters, and had a crescent shape cut out from the top of it— probably to fit a spear or sword in place. "That's why my men— Luke's men— were able to sweep yours aside like pile of dry leaves."

I glowered at the insult. Savages! Had they met us on a fair battleground, without their shield or armor, we would have torn them apart. Percy caught the look in my eye and chuckled.

"No need for that," he said. "Just pointing out the obvious." And then I had too much. How could this cocky, arrogant sea brat be laughing when he had just killed men? How could he be so happy when he had just seen his captain die?

I drew my dagger— a last resort weapon, as I had never liked it. It was off balance and didn't fit well in my hand, but I had no choice now. I dove at Percy, aimed for his midriff.

He barely had time to deflect the blow off his arm guards, surprised by my attack. I wielded around and slashed again, watching with satisfaction as my blade grazed his cheek and left a cut.

And then is sword was in his hand, and his boot was coming in contact with my chest. I went sailing backwards, almost toppling over the railing but managing to steady myself. My dagger was gone, and now Percy's sword was against my throat.

"This is Riptide," he growled. "Wielded by Hercules, defeater of Hyperion and blessed by Poseidon himself. It's killed more enemies then I've seen days in my life, and if you so much as point a pencil at any of my men again I will not hesitate to run you through with it and then offer your blood as a blessing to the gods. _Do you understand?_"

His face was terrifying; his green eyes alight with fire. I had no intention of admitting defeat, although I wasn't very much looking forwards to being run through with a sword. And the nonsense he was spouting: wielded by Hercules and blessed by Poseidon? If he really believed in that I had no doubt that he was a fool.

"Percy!" A girl yelled. "What're you playing at?" A girl appeared, with spiky black hair and electric blue eyes. She had a bow slung over her shoulder and a knife on her belt.

"Nothing, Thalia," Percy said, sheathing his sword. "Just teaching her a lesson."

"Do you even know her name?" Thalia asked, amused. She came to join us and looked me up and down. I glared back at her, and she nodded with approval.

"Aye, that might be a problem," Percy agreed. They all had some sort of foreign accent to them that I couldn't place. It just made them sound dumber and dumber.

"Annabeth," I supplied. "Annabeth Chase."

"Are you related to Frederick Chase?" Thalia asked, slightly interested. I shook my head and explained how I was an orphan. I shouldn't be telling them this, really, but they weren't that bad. Savage, but not all as horrible as they were made out to be.

"Hmm," Thalia said. "I knew Frederick Chase, once."

"You did?" I asked, surprised. Thalia nodded.

"He was a tough man," she smiled. "Took three arrows and a knife to kill him." Percy smiled wistfully, as if remembering that day.

"Get back to the ship," he told Thalia. Then he turned to me, the anger in his eyes gone. "Walk with me."

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**So? What did you think? Should i continue this? I really hope you guys like it, because I was actually kinda fond of this piece of writing. If you're confused about anything, drop a review and I'll happily answer your questions. Also, review saying what pairings you want in this story. Percabeth is a definite and Jasper is a probably, but if you want anything else tell me. **

**Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Whoa! You guys are the best! When I posted this story I never thought I'd get 12 reviews on the first chapter, and fourteen followers! Big thanks to all of you!**

**So far for shippings, we have Percabeth, Jasper and Frazel. Leyna is pending, depending on whether Reyna is in the story yet, and Tratie is a possibility. Also, I guess the demi-gods are going to have their powers, thanks to you guys. **

**This chapter may get confusing because of the badly explained mythology, but if anyone has any questions just review and i'll answer as well as i can. **

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Percy's ship, the Argo, was the biggest thing I'd ever seen at sea, besides a Galleon. At least twice as big as our ship, it must have been six hundred yards long and at least two hundred wide. With six massive sails and thousands of oars, I wondered what kind of speeds it could achieve in a heavy wind. The wood was beautifully cut— smooth, sturdy and intricately designed. At the front of the ship, a giant wooden dragonhead sat, painted gold and gleaming in the sunlight. Attached to the railings, every twenty feet, were some heavy-duty looking weapons. They seemed to be giant crossbow that fired spears. Placed at regular intervals in-between these massive weapons were smaller ones— slings made of stretchy leather with a pocket, most likely for a jar of fire to sit in.

"Those are ballista's," Percy said, pointing towards the massive crossbows. "They fire twelve-foot long spears with enough power to punch through the double hull of a ship and half the lower deck. Far more powerful than any cannon you have."

"But slower to reload," I pointed out, still awed by the craftsmanship and sheer size of the ship. I hated to admit it, but the _Argo_ was far superior to my ship.

"I wouldn't count on it," Percy smiled. He looked so easy-going, so carefree, that I could barely see the other side of him: the deadly, cruel warrior who had pinned me against a wall and threatened to stab me with a sword to save his own men.

He led me along the deck, pointing out the several marvels of engineering that were equipped on the _Argo. _I had studied architecture at school and, as much as I wanted to hate the ship, couldn't bring myself to. It was just too marvelous.

"So," Percy said, as he led us below decks, a surprisingly roomy and well-lit space, in contrast to the gloomy and cramped quarters of the _Arthur_. "You must thing us to be savages, no?"

"You are," I snapped, making sure not to let my amazement show. "You killed my men without a second thought. You threatened to run me through with a sword. Now you're prepared to fire on a helpless ship!" If he was bothered by the insults, Percy didn't show it. He just smiled wisely and opened another door, gesturing for me to go in first.

"Ah, but we mustn't forget you were doing the same thing," Percy smirked. "As soon as you saw the Galleon all you thought about was riches. You threw caution out the wind, did you not?" He raised his eyebrows at me and I found I couldn't deny it, because I knew it was true. But Percy wasn't done. "And just think about the things you've done, Miss Chase. Raiding, pillaging and conquering any land that you see. I would go as far as to say you're the savage one here."

I stared at him in disbelief. How could he suggest that? We were a civilized, highly technologically advanced country, who had permission from god to rule over any countries we wished in His mighty name. How dare this boy, this pirate, stand before me and suggest otherwise? They would all burn in hell, the lot of them.

After a moment Percy started walking again and I was forced to follow him, hurrying to keep up. We stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, Percy leading me through the ship and me admiring everything around us. We came to a huge forgery, with a fire roaring in the middle and the sound or hammers filling the air. Crude conveyor belts snaked across the roof, each holding a different sort of weapons. It was an impressive arsenal; from small knives to the twelve-foot spears Percy had been telling me about. It was no wonder the pirates could crush our men; with an arsenal like this, they could take on half of England with this.

A boy ran over to us. He was a couple of years older than Percy, covered in soot and ash. He was holding a glowing-hot, seven-foot long sword. It was massive, smooth bronze with a gem-inlaid handle and a name inscribed on the hilt: _Ares,_ followed by some foreign letters that were probably Greek. I stared at the sword. Why would they make such a thing? No one could wield it, least of all Percy, and it seemed more for decoration that actual battle.

"Hey, Perce," the guy panted. "Swords' done. Sorry it took so long, the first hilt snapped off."

"It's alright, Beckendorf," Percy said. He examined the blade as Beckendorf poured water on it, cooling the blade with a hiss. Percy took to sword from him and felt its blade, nodding in approval.

"Ares will be pleased," he said. "Aye, don't you think it's a bit small?"

_Small? _What sort of creature could possible consider the massive broadsword small. Percy, despite obviously being well muscled, was struggling under it's weight, and he was calling it small. They were mad.

"It's seven feet," Beckendorf shrugged. He took it from Percy, flipped it around and caught it by the hilt. I was impressed at his strength, but he looked ridiculous holding a blade taller than he was. Percy looked equally impressed at the display of strength and nodded in approval again. "Ares specified the length, and I made it." He put the sword down on a table and looked at me for the first time. His eyebrows scrunched up, and he frowned.

"Who's she?"

"Her names Annabeth," Percy introduced me. "She was on the ship we raided."

"And you're keeping her?" Beckendorf asked incredulously. It was obviously uncommon for the pirates to keep any hostages. Obviously, they were too stupid to understand the advantages that could come out of holding someone captive. It didn't surprise me.

"Am I the only one who notices?" Percy smiled. "That's a first. Look at her eyes, mate." Beckendorf did the same thing as Jason, looking into my grey eyes and stepping backwards, surprised.

"You don't think…"

"I wasn't going to take the chance," Percy told him grimly. "Anyways, we have a lot of ship to cover. Come one," he said to me, and walked off. I followed quickly, wanting to escape the scorching heat and repetitive ringing sounds of the forge.

"What do you know of the Legend of Azran?" Percy asked me as we passed through more corridors. He seemed to know his way around the ship like the back of his hand, which I found impressive. And I couldn't get over how handsome Percy was, with his sharp features and square jaw.

Clearing my throat, I focused on his question. It was one of the first things that children were taught in school: how our might King and Savior, Azran, was born during a time of horror. The Greeks ruled the world under false belief that they were children of the twelve Olympian Gods; Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hermes, Apollo, Hephaestus, Dionysus, Ares, Hera, Artemis, Athena, Demeter, Persephone and Aphrodite. King Azran however, was sent a message from the one and only God. It said that he was to go West by North and raise an army to fight these savages, restore his rule over the world and make sure all of creation new the truth: the He was our one and only might Savior. Following the instructions, Azran took the long trek up to the land called Spain, where he found hosts of independent nations living separate from each other. Armed with a book carrying the word of God and the Holy Crucifix, he united the tribes and led them in a battle against the mighty Greeks. With the power of God on his side, Azran was able to slay Perseus, leader of the Greeks, and restore rule to God. Some Greeks escaped, however, and were now hiding in their own lands, scavenging and fighting for limited resources.

I had spent hours studying this tale, learning about everything I could. I looked up to Mighty King Azran. He had given us power, and wealth, and prosperity, and for that, I offered my life to God as a servant of His will, patrolling the seas to keep order in the world.

And yet, when I told this to Percy, he just laughed. I felt anger bubble up inside of me. How dare he laugh in the face of God? Did he truly believe in those inferior tales of twelve gods who gave birth to men?

"Is that what they tell you in school?" Percy asked me, and I nodded defiantly. He chuckled again, shaking his head, and I wished I had a weapon in my hands. I would strike him down, no matter how mighty a warrior he was, because I had His power on my side.

"God will punish you for your insolence," I spat at him angrily. "You will spend an eternity burning in the pits of Hell."

"Doubt it," Percy replied nonchalantly. "I'm not doubting God. Whether there is a God, a mighty, divine presence who looks over the whole Universe, I know not, nor do I doubt. But _gods_, as in plural, I can vouch for. I've met them."

I laughed at his incredulity. A slight blush crept onto his cheeks, but he didn't back down. "You really expect me to believe that?" I asked him. "Your silly gods? You think they exist?"

"I don't think they exist," Percy retorted. "I know they exist. I'm a descendant from one."

I laughed in his face when he said this. He really believed that? He must be even dumber than I thought at first. Percy didn't react as I laughed, just standing there, looking at me expectantly.

"Are you done?"

"How can you believe that?" I asked him. "Greek Gods…"

"How can you believe in your god?" Percy challenged. I was prepared for this question. Gosh, he was so predictable.

"Because we have the Bible," I told him smugly. "The word of God. If you knew how to read, then maybe I could lend you a copy and you could learn some _real _religion."

His face took on a dangerous expression, his green eyes burning with anger. "You may be English," he snarled. "And you may be under the protection of God. But we're sailing in Greek waters now, lass. Your god can't protect you here. Don't forget where you are, and who you're with. You'll treat my crew with the utmost respect, and if you don't, gods help me what they may do to you. This isn't your ship, and these aren't your rules."

I held his gaze, although it was scary. I feared he may pull Riptide on me, but after a moment he cleared his throat and his face resumed its normal expression. "You think your legends to be true? Perhaps I should explain the politics behind the actual war."

Politics? He knew what those were? Maybe they actually were a bit civilized. Everything I had seen so far had contradicted my view that pirates were savages. The beautifully made ship, the skilled fighting and the high-tech weapons all went against that view.

"Your first King, Azran, was a brother of Perseus," Percy told me. "A half-brother that is. Born from the same mother, although they had differed fathers. Perseus was what you might call a demi-god, half mortal, half god."

"Like you." I stated incredulously, and he nodded.

"In fact, I'm named after the great Perseus," Percy explained. "But never mind. Ever since birth, Perseus was an enigma, the clear heir to the throne of Greece. He could fight, he was diplomatic, he was an incredible strategist. And then came along Azran.

"Now, they were brothers through blood, although Azran was completely mortal. This caused a deep envy for his brother, Perseus, who was half god. Azran grew up in Perseus's shadow, always the younger brother, with no demi-god powers. He trained with his brother, although he was never as good as him.

"What is your point?" I demanded. This tale went against everything I had ever believed in. We were walking again, Percy leading us back up onto the deck and into the sunlight. We were still not twenty feet from the _Arthur, _Greeks throwing valuables from our ship to theirs.

"Once your Perseus reached age eighteen, he was crowned as king of Greece." This I knew, although the books I had read described Perseus as a savage tyrant, who killed for the fun of it and had no value for human life. Percy continued his story. "This was the last straw for Azran. At night, he snuck into the grand palace of the Greeks and planted a Greek fire bomb, before fleeing north to the lands of Spain and gathering an army. He killed his brother and several councilmen in the explosion, sending Greece into Chaos. The guards were furious at your brother, but he was out of their power. That is, until Azran led his army against the Greeks. Outnumbered and still in shock, the Greeks were slaughtered in their own home." I felt deep satisfaction at this. Of course my people could beat the Greeks. We were far superior.

"Your King won the war," Percy said. "But at a terrible cost. He was cursed by the guards and fell ill mere days after his battle. He passed away a week later, and now he suffers in the Fields of Punishment of the underworld."

It was a good story, I had to admit. Well though-of, well spoken, and it fit with the bible recently. But it wasn't true. It _couldn't _be true. Ever since I was younger, I had been taught that the way of god was the only way. He was our mighty ruler, and whatever he said, we obeyed without question. That was the way life should be, spent preparing for the afterlife. Those who deserved it got to spend the rest of eternity in His divine presence, those who didn't either were purified in purgatory or burned in Hell.

"So if the Greeks are dead, then what are you?" I asked Percy, wanting to hear the rest of his story. It was odd, almost as if I felt a connection to this ridiculous tale. Like… I was one of them? The thought alone was unbearable. I couldn't be related to these savages, these unholy creatures who scavenged for resources and worshipped all the wrong gods.

"One group escaped the slaughter," he said. "Led by the mortal Jason, and under instructions from Hera, they retreated to the Greek aisles and built a civilization there. They built the mightiest navy the world has ever known and prepared for when the English would find them. When it happened, as they had known it would, they rigged traps in their city and escaped on the boats. We're descendants from those men, the original crusaders of the gods."

"So that's what you do," I summed up snarkily. "Sail around hiding for all of eternity."

"If you were any different, Riptide would be tainted with your blood by now," Percy warned. "We're under order from the gods themselves to keep order in the world. We sail the waters, fighting monsters and making sure the Titan's don't rise and crush civilization. This is the Argo, the mightiest ship ever to sail, and this is my crew. The legends say we're descendants from Hercules himself. The ancient scrolls of the oracle say that someday we'll bring balance to the world and restore Greek power, and I'll do anything I can to make that happen. Our gods are weekend from lack of worship, but they will grow strong once again."

Before I could even think about this, I realized action around us had resumed. The sails were going up, and the _Argo_ was sailing away from the _Arthur_. The pirates must have taken anything worth value. One thing that didn't make sense, though, was that they were leaving the ship, with the whole crew, on board. What were they doing?

And then came Jason's voice: "FIRE THE BALLISTAS!" Percy looked surprised that he wasn't the one giving the orders. He rushed to the front of the boat, stepping up onto the railing and grabbing a rope to keep himself steady. He looked regal and warlike, the wind blowing in his air and his green eyes focused on my boat.

Then a bright green streak shot out of the _Argo_ and slammed into the hull of the _Arthur_, exploding in a flash of brilliant light. I watched in shock; my whole crew, the only family I had ever known, was aboard that ship. I watched as another streak crash into the hull, then another. The whole ship was ablaze now, green flames roaring viciously, leaping into the sky and claiming the ship for their own. Satisfied, we turned away from the _Arthur _and began sailing at an incredible speed, the wind catching the six massive sails and pushing us clear.

"Percy!" I begged as the ballista's continued to fire, ripping wholes in the _Arthur._ "Percy, make them stop! _Please!_ I'll do anything! Let them live! PLEASE!" I was on my knees now, begging the captain because there was nothing else I could do. Percy just stood there, his jaw set, staring out at my sinking ship.

Rage overtook me in that one instant. I saw red, and before I knew what was happening, I had grabbed Riptide from Percy's hip and plunged it into his stomach down to the hilt. I twisted, before yanking it out again and watching as he fell to the deck. Then I raised it and prepared for the final blow that would end his life.

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**And that's the chapter! I'll try to update by the weekend, and then i'll probably fall into a regular updating schedule every saturday. How's that sound?**

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	3. Chapter 3

**New, longer chapter. Why? because you guys are awesome! 27 reviews in 2 chapters... wow. I never thought i would get that when i posted this story. **

**I've decided to fall into a regular updating schedule for all three of my stories— i'll try to update all of them on saturday or sunday. What do you guys think? is one week too long to wait? **

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There are certain things a man should not be able to do. For example, a man should not be able to make a ladies heart leap with a single smile. A man should not be able to command a whole ship with ease. A man should not be able to control the elements.

And a man definitely should not be able to win a sword fight armed with a shield.

Percy hit the deck, staring at he with shock as I raised Riptide, prepared the deal the final blow that would end his life. His sea-green eyes looked into mine, and I felt a pang of remorse for the fearless captain. Then it was gone as I remembered how, mere moments ago, he had stood there and allowed his men to fire upon my ship.

I brought the sword down in a stab, aiming for his neck. Faster than my eye could follow, he rolled to the side, drew his shield and covered himself fully with it. Riptide bounced right off and embedded itself in the wooden deck of the ship. Percy swept out with his arm, catching the sword with the edge of his shield and twisting sharply. Riptide went sailing from my grasp and landed in the sea a hundred yards off the boat with a splash.

And then the rest of the crew were upon us. Jason was yelling orders at the top of his voice:

"Get him to the water! Bring down the sails! Stop the ship! Anyone who touches the girl will be strap to the rocks of Tallite and whipped to death!" He drew his sword and held it to my throat, barely contained anger threatening to break through on his face. Two guys— the dark-haired fighter and another, larger boy grabbed the limp body of Percy, lifted him up and threw him over the side of the ship.

I had to contain a laugh. I had nearly killed him, and they had finished the job for me! What kind of crew did that to their Captain? No matter how good of a swimmer Percy was, there was no way that he could survive in the water, weighed down by his armor and slowly dying from his wound.

Jason pressed his sword a little bit more, and I felt a trickle of blood snake down my throat. No doubt heeding Percy's orders, the pirates hadn't killed me yet, although several looked like they wanted to. I had at least twenty arrows pointed at me, along with an assortment of spears, pikes and other lethal weapons, not to mention Jason's sword at my throat. Fear shot through me, although I forced a calm, measured expression onto my face and was pleased as the pirates looked shocked at the fact I apparently had no fear at the moment.

"When I was six," Jason snarled, his voice carefully measures, each word lashing out at me like a whip. "I was commissioned under the command of the youngest, most promising Captain that the Greek world had ever seen, save great heroes like Hercules. When I joined that ship, I was bound by a sworn oath to the gods that I would obey my captain, no matter what. Percy is my captain now, and for some reason he has seen it fit to keep you alive. That oath is the one thing keeping you alive at this moment."

That gave me confidence; the fact that they couldn't kill me. I was sure in my abilities to escape from this situation, maybe not free but alive. Then a thought struck me: if Percy died, Jason would be freed from his oath and I would probably be dead in a second.

I should have thought this through more. I had just killed the captain, who was the one person keeping me alive right now. I mentally cursed my stupidity; I was suppose to be smart— the youngest ever graduate from Sea School, not some fast-acting dimwit.

It was fury, I rationalized. Fury from the sight of my ship being fired upon that had made me attack Percy. And then his crew had thrown him overboard… that I couldn't rationalize. I had no clue why they would do something like that, instead of pressing down on the wound to stem the bleeding, clean it out with alcohol and then stitching it up like _I _would have done. Obviously, they weren't capable of thinking like that.

"How much longer?" Nico asked from beside Jason. There was fury in his eyes, but there was also… amusement? Boredom? Something that definitely did not belong in someone's eyes after their captain got stabbed.

"A minute, maybe," Jason said. "He's getting kinda lazy these days, you know." I wondered what they were talking about. Suddenly, there was the sound of rushing water and the ship rocked a bit. I was scared Jason would accidentally stab me with his sword, but he was completely in control of the weapon. He had probably been wielding it his whole life.

The rushing water increased in volume and suddenly Percy was there, sailing over the railing the ship. He looked fine— wound healed, a bright gleam in his eyes and his shield slung over his back. Even now he had the nerve to look handsome.

I was completely shocked. He had survived… how? Just the drop should have killed him on impact, not to mention the sharks and waves and his wound. But here he was, looking as good as new. Better, even, as if the water had given him a make-over. My mind was scrambling for possible explanations, but I could come up with none, and I didn't like it. I hated being in the dark.

"Lower your sword, Jason," Percy commanded, coming to a smooth landing on the deck and drawing his shield. Jason looked mutinous, like he may attack Percy at any second, but he reluctantly pointed his weapon at the floor.

"She stabbed you, Perce," he grumbled. I took in this information; his closest friends called him _Perce_. He had close friends, something I could definitely use against him.

"How many times must I say this?" Percy sighed. "_Look at her eyes." _

"It doesn't mean for sure," Jason argued, and once again I was held in the dark.

"Yes, but do you really want to risk it if it does?" Percy retorted, and Jason pondered the question. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he brought the sword up, grazed my cheek _just_ enough to draw blood and sheathed the weapon. Again, I was awed by their effortless control of weapons, and I could see why they were as lethal as they were. Percy rolled his eyes at Jason's actions but said nothing, instead holding out his arm.

"My sword," he told me, staring me right in the eye. There were several pirates closer to Riptide than I, but I could see why he was doing this. He was asserting his dominance over me by making me pick it up.

With blazing eyes, I reluctantly knelt down to pick up the sword, grasping it by the hilt and standing up again. I glowered at Percy, who held my gaze effortlessly— not scared, not even fazed. He certainly was something, I reflected as I handed him Riptide. He grabbed the blade, stepped back and flipped it, catching it by the hilt. I couldn't even register what happened next— a quick thrust, a lightning fast flick of the wrist and suddenly I was on my back with Riptide at my throat once again. Percy was looming over me, and he was in warrior form now. I held his gaze though, chin held high.

"You will explain your actions," he said slowly, pronunciation every word slowly and meaningfully. I rolled my eyes at the tone.

"I don't have to," I challenged. "You said yourself, you can't kill me." Percy's face twisted unpleasantly, and I smiled at my small victory.

"I never said that," he defended, and I sighed internally. From the corner of my eye I saw the rest of the pirates relaxing slightly— drawstrings let slack, swords lowered, spears dropping from their firing position.

"It was implied," I shot back, smirking. "Plus, you still haven't killed me even after I stabbed you, which suggests something is holding you back." Percy was at least slightly confused by this logic, but his mind went to probably the only concept he had a firm grasp on: violence.

"Take her to the brig," he ordered, sheathing Riptide. "Give her a loaf of bread and a bottle of water and make her stay the night, see if she still has her attitude the next morning."

Two boys stepped forwards— the bigger one from the forge and a slightly smaller boy, with one larger arm that suggested he was an archer. The grabbed me roughly by the arms and the archer kicked out my legs. I would have fallen had they not been holding me in place. As it was, I got dragged away, face burning from the humiliation while I tried to find my footing on the ground. Percy smirked at me the whole time, his eyes glinting with amusement and his smile taunting me: _Bet you want to know how I survived, huh?_

Brotherband

I was sitting in the brig— a square wooden room with no windows, two flickering torches that did almost nothing to illuminate the small space but filled the area with choking smoke, bronze bars and no place to sit on. So I sat on the floor.

I had been in the same position for a couple of hours now— back against the wall, knees tucked up to my chest, arms wrapped around my knees, squinting down the dark hallways— when a girl appeared on the stairs. She lit the first torch and the fire seemed to race along the walls and the roof in a controlled inferno, lighting up the hallways but creating almost now heat. I was suitably amazed by the engineering and made a mental note to fins out how it worked.

The girl smiled at me as she came closer. She had curly brown hair and gold eyes, dressed in battle armor with a huge Spatha over her back. She was on the small end and the weapon was almost four feet long, so I had to wonder how she used it. On the other hand, she carried it with such confidence I reminded myself not to underestimate her should we meet on a battlefield.

"I'm Hazel," she said, reaching the front of my cell and sinking down onto the ground so we could be level. I had the urge to stand up, just annoy her, but I held it back. Based on the way Percy had treated me so far, they at least deserved some form of civilized manners.

"Annabeth," I replied shortly, studying the sword on her back. It was a two-handed weapon, opposite of the one-handed swords most of the Greeks carried. It was clearly used for mounted fighting— the speed of a horse added with the weight of the sword would make it almost impossible to block.

Well… yesterday, I would have thought there was no warrior in the world that would be able to stop a strike like that. Now, having watched Percy wreak hell on my ship, I wasn't so convinced. It wasn't just his fighting style, it was how easily he used his weapons in battle. His blocks, his swings, his jabs— all of them were different to anything I had ever seen before.

"You don't need to look so grumpy," Hazel smiled, her gold eyes glinting in the light. "Percy may have locked you in the brig, but hey. You did stab him."

"For a good reason," I countered. "He fired upon my ship."

"Just like you would have done had our positions be reversed," Hazel smiled. "Percy thought of that trap, originally— setting up the ship to make us look like a Galleon, and then shooting you guys once you were in range."

"It was a cowardly trick," I spat, mildly impressed at the trap. They must have filled the ship up with air— no easy task itself. And then they could have to get rid of all the excess air to bring their ship down into battle position. Again, some very impressive mechanics on this ship.

"You say that," Hazel shot back. "And yet you used a pistol to kill an honorable Captain." She had a point, but I wasn't going to tell her that. Instead I sputtered out something about honor in survival, to which Hazel just smiled.

"Percy's not all that bad," she finally said, getting back to our original line of conversation. "He can be a bit dumb sometimes, but he really is sharp— especially when it comes to battle. And trust me, you do _not _wanna see him angry."

"I think it's too late for that," I answered glumly. "He was pretty mad when I stabbed him." Hazels eyes clouded, but she didn't change the subject.

"That was probably nothing," she told me gravely. "The time that they kidnapped Nico… I never saw someone stand up to a god like that."

"He fought a god and won?" I asked, awed. Hazel shook her head.

"He lost, badly," Hazel smiled ruefully. "But it gave us chance to get Nico back and escape, so it was still brave of him."

"What god?" I asked, curious. I had a mild knowledge on the Greek gods— Zeus and Athena, for example, but I was still in the dark for a lot of it. If I was going to beat the gods, I would need to know as much as I could.

"Morpheus, god of sleep," Hazel answered. "He had to fight in the water to stop from falling asleep, but Morpheus overcame him in the end. Still, it was pretty brave of him."

"You speak of the water as if it gives him strength," I stated, puzzled. Hazel adjusted her position and smiled, gold eyes twinkling. She seemed far too friendly for one of the pirates, and I wondered if this was some kind of trick. Get me to like them, and then kill me? But that didn't make sense. Why not just kill me now? Why go through the trouble of letting me drop my guard. I had seen Percy in battle and knew that if he wanted me dead, I wouldn't last a second against him.

"Percy's a son of Poseidon, god of the sea," Hazel answered me with a completely straight face. I had to hold back my laughter; the idea was completely ridiculous. A god having an affair with a mortal woman?

"And you believe that?" I retorted. Hazel looked me straight in the eye and there was no humor there, just dead seriousness, as if me understanding the gods existed was vitally important.

"Look at earlier today," Hazel countered. "You stabbed him in the stomach, a blow that should have been lethal. He was thrown into the water from the upper decks— a fall that should have been lethal as well— and minutes later he popped up good as new with no wound on his stomach and no signs of exhaustion on his face." I opened my mouth to argue but found I couldn't. My mind raced for an explanation, but for the fist time in my life, I could find none. There was simply no way that something like that could happen… unless magic was someone involved.

But God would never allow that. Only he was privileged to wield supreme powers, for only he was dutiful to use them responsibly. The thought of a mere mortal possessing such powers was simply ridiculous.

"I'll talk to Percy about letting you out of here," Hazel said, kicking the bars with her foot. "He's still a bit mad, but I can probably get through to him." She stood up to leave, but I called her back, a question at the edge of my mind.

"Yes, Annabeth?"

"You say that the gods exist…" I asked hesitantly. Hazel looked at me expectantly. "Who's your parent?"

"Hades, god of the underworld," Hazel smiled happily, and I found it hard to believe she was related to such a dark figure. The she turned and walked out, and I was left with my thoughts, a blank wooden wall and two slowly flickering torches.

Brotherband

I woke up the next morning with a stiff back and cramped muscles from sleeping curled up on the floor. Nico, the dark haired, pale skinned boy, was standing outside my cell. He had a small black shield slung over his back and was dressed in black and gold armor, with a pitch black blade dangling by his side. Did they always walk around in armor, or was something happening?

"Percy wants you on deck," he said shortly, pulling a set of keys off his belt and unlocking the brig. "You may be under his protection, but be warned. If you take any measures to harm the crew, you'll know the full wrath of Hades." The shadows bent at his will, covering the stairway and crawling along to floor towards me. It was freaky, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing him, so I walked out with my head held high.

When I reached the deck I saw a scene of utter chaos. Greeks were scrambling around, loading the ballista's and attaching armor. They all moved with such quick precision I had the feeling they had done this many times before.

On the horizon I could see another ship, and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

Percy was striding through the chaos, Greeks parting before him. He too was dressed for battle with armor, a shield, two spears and Riptide in his hand. He was calling out orders and a small, brown-skinned boy followed him, repeating them with a cone that projected his voice:

"Lower the sails!"

"LOWER THE SAILS!"

"Arm the ballista's!"

"ARM THE BALLISTA'S!"

"Archers at the ready!"

"ARCHERS AT THE READY!"

"Poseidon, to me!"

"POSEIDON, TO HIM!"

"Leo's an idiot!"

"LEO'S AN ID— I hate you, Perce."

And so on. The Greeks followed his every command, pairs of two preparing the massive ballista's for battle. Roughly thirty archers lined up on the port side, facing the new ship with their bows loaded. Percy saw me and started over, his silver armor glinting in the sunlight.

"So glad you could join us," he smiled. "I'm about to show you what happens when someone challenges the Greeks."

"That's a model five battle cruiser," I sneered, pointing out to the ship. I could tell by the four sails and the slim, sleek build. "They carry twenty cannons on each side. You don't stand a chance."

"And that's why your men lost," Percy smiled, before wheeling around and continuing to yell orders. After a moment, he turned back to Nico. "Go, cousin. Get her a shield and sword and stand by her the battle. Anyone kills her, bring them to me and pray for forgiveness."

Nico nodded gravely and raced off below decks. Percy stood by my side, sword in one had and helmet in the other. He gazed off to the other ship, his eyes narrowed in judgment. I tried not to notice how handsome and regal he looked, ready for battle with his armor on and the sea breeze blowing his hair to the side. I could believe he was a descendant from a Greek god— he was handsome enough to be one.

_Stop that, _I chided myself, blocking the thoughts. I couldn't afford to think like that, not when I needed to escape these pirates.

We neared the other ship, although we were still out of cannon range. I had no doubt as soon as we were within it, the _Argo_ would be blasted to bits. And Percy said something that completely shocked me:

"Lower the ballista's! Prepare to fire!"

The order went up amongst the Greeks to a roar of approval. Swords were slammed against shields and spears were pounded against the deck as Nico raced back up to me, holding a medium-size round shield and short sword.

"You probably won't have to use it," he told me. "A thrust works best with that kind of sword, and the shield can cover your whole body in the event the enemy fires back."

I snorted, knowing that this shield would do nothing against a bullet, but put it on anyways. I gripped the sword and experimentally jabbed with it. Percy nodded in approval. Trying to take him by surprise, I slashed at him in a sword arc. Laughing, he brought his shield up to block before jabbing with Riptide. Barely knowing what I was doing, I brought my own shield up, deflected the blow and stepped forwards, thrusting at his chin. He bent back, dodging the blow and grabbing my arm as it came up. He was grinning.

"Not bad," he smiled. "You're a natural. Just don't hesitate and you'll be fine." I slung my shield over my back and crossed my arms.

"Those are my men out there," I argued. "You can't ask me to kill them." Percy shrugged.

"Suit yourself." Then he turned back towards the ship, which was nearly in cannon range, took a huge breath and bellowed a single word. "FIRE!"

A cheer went up as the ballista's fired, giant spears screaming across the water. Very few of them connected, but those that did had devastating consequences. They ripped through the hull near the waterline, causing the ship to tilt dangerously. And then I realized that only half the ballista's had fired.

"FIRE!"

The other half ripped of their shots with better aim this time. No sooner were they in the air did the other ship fire. I heard the _boom _of cannons and was about to tell Percy, but he was already on the deck with his shield raised above his head. I followed in suit, covering myself fully as the cannon balls connected, tearing through the hull of the ship but then stopping abruptly. A metal clang filled the air, and the boy who had been following Percy— Leo, I think— punched the air victoriously.

"Metal hull, baby!" he said joyfully. Percy smirked at him, before raising his sword, pointed at the other ship.

"ARCHERS!"

The air was filled with twangs as the thirty archers fired, reloaded, fired, reloaded and fired a third time within five seconds. Ninety arrows whistled through the air towards the ship with deadly accuracy. I felt sick as I watched men drop, but I knew the main show was yet to come. We were nearing the other ship quickly. I could now make out individual faces of terror and determination, guns raised.

And that one was aimed straight at my face.

The man fired and I reached for my shield, but I was too slow. I could almost see the bullet racing through the air, the little lead ball that would be my death. I couldn't believe this is how it would end— on a pirate ship, killed by my own men. It was almost ironic.

And then Percy was there, leaping into the air and bringing his shield down to block. The bullet pinged off, barely leaving a dent in his shield. He landed, drew one of his spears and hurled— an impossible throw. It sailed through the air and struck the man who had shot at me right between the eyes.

By that time, we were pulling up next to the ship. Bullets flew through the air and the Greeks hit the deck, covering themselves with their shields. Percy grinned at me and pulled on his helmet, covering everything but his eyes and cheeks. Then he grabbed Riptide, rolled to the side, stood up and charged.

It was like things were happening in slow motion. I saw Archers pop up at random times to shoot. I was aware of Jason and Nico charging as well. I saw Thalia fire three shots at once with her bow, hitting three men in the eyes. I saw all this, but my attention was focused on Percy, who was running across the deck at full speed. I was scared for him, because despite his skill, he was up against guns, and there was no way he could win.

He bolted across the wood deck, dodging bullets and yelling as he went. Someone fired and he brought his shield up, deflecting the bullet without missing a stride and vaulting the five-foot gap between the two ships as if it were nothing.

_The man wants to die_.

And then he was on the other ship, swinging his sword and causing utter havoc. With planned timing, the rest of the Greeks got up and charged, archers firing one last time before drawing swords and joining the charge. I stayed behind my shield, not trusting to run across the deck when the enemy still had guns. Percy was in the middle of the battle, a ring of seven or eight sword-wielding men surrounding him as he fought. He became a blur of silver and gold as he ducked, slashed and whirled, each clean flick of his sword ending another mans life.

When I realized no one was firing a gun anymore, I drew my sword, took a deep breath and rushed to the other boat, leaping over the gap and landing crouched. A privateer rushed me and I brought my sword up to block, before taking Percy's advice and jabbing out quickly, catching the man in the gut. He fell and I stared in horror as blood pooled on the deck around he, gathering at my shoes and running along cracks in the wood. I had just killed a man— run him through with my own sword. One of my own men, someone I may have sailed with and fought alongside had my life taken a different course. I would have happily stayed there all day, staring at the dead man in horror and thinking of ways to bring him back to life, but I quickly learned there was no time for that in battle. Another privateer attacked me with a thin sword, and I barely had time to block with my shield. In doing so, however, I stumbled back and fell flat on the ground. I scrambled to the feet, but lost my sword.

Guess who saved my life?

"Duck!" a voice yelled. Milliseconds later, a silver shield sailed over my head and caught my assailant in the chest, knocking him flat. Right after that, Riptide flashed through the air and embedded itself in the mans chest. I gawked as Percy leapt over me, grabbing Riptide and joining the fight, but this time without a shield. I was worried for him, but there was no reason to; without his shield, he was quicker on his feet and seemed to blur as he fought. I scrambled to my feet and picked up my sword, grasping my shield and preparing for an opponent. It seemed that they were becoming fewer and fewer though, as the pirates ran rampage on the ship. Percy was fighting two men at once, although he was grinning as he did it, one hand in his pocket and the other twirling Riptide lazily as he leaned against the sail. Jason and Nico had double-teamed a massive fighter that was using a massive battleaxe and even bigger sword to fight the two. Jason was fighting with a spear and a shield, where Nico was using his sword, shield gone.

And then disaster struck. The man swung his giant axe at Jason, who raised his shield to block, but the momentum of the swing sent Jason to his knees with the blade of the axe stuck three inches deep into his shield. He quickly scrambled away, slipping his arm out of the shield and turning to face his opponent, but it was too late. The hilt of the axe slammed into him, and Jason crumpled, leaving Nico by himself. The smaller boy seemed scared, but he made one last desperate lunge, a quick flick on his smaller sword someone blocking the mans massive one. He crashed into the giant but seemed to bounce off, stumbling back and losing his balance. His head hit the deck, and he was out cold.

Percy saw this and screamed. In a lightning-quick maneuver, he finished off both of his enemies and raced towards the man, who was standing in an execution stance over Nico, sword raised.

"Percy!" Thalia yelled, knocking out her own enemy and grabbing Percy's fallen shield. She tossed it through the air as the son of Poseidon looked up. It was a race against time; Percy was trying to reach the man before he could kill Nico. The whole ship seemed to catch their breath as the man started his downwards thrust that would run Nico through, no doubt penetrating his skull and killing the boy.

Percy won.

He grabbed his shield out of mid-air, dropped down and used the momentum of Thalia's throw to spin around, thrusting upwards and slamming the man in the chest. He went flying, crashing into the deck hard and losing his sword. Percy spun his shield, raised Riptide and started to advance.

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**Dun dun dun. I just love leaving cliff hangers :) **

**I wasn't really happy with that last part, but i wanted to get this chapter up for you guys. Nine pages! I think this is the longest chapter i've ever written for this website. Yay!**

**For anyone who reads Lost in Time, i should be updating today or tomorrow. Please, if you read that story, review it!**

**REVIEW**


	4. Chapter 4

**Seven pages in one week, plus three tests, plus two other fan fics... I'm pretty proud. Also, thank you to everyone who reviews! 41 reviews in three chapters... wow. You guys are the best. **

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The first thing the man did was grab his sword, before turning and growling at Percy. If pirates were savages, then this guy was an animal. His teeth were sharpened to points and he wore an iron collar around his neck. Breathing heavily, he swung the sword and bellowed in rage.

Percy, meanwhile, was advancing slowly with his shield locked in position and his sword bristling out the top oh his shield. There was no fear in his eyes, just cold fury and determination as he faced of his giant opponent.

"I'll call you Tyson," Percy decided. "Because you're about the size of my half-brother Tyson."

Tyson didn't like his name, apparently. He lunged forwards and swung his sword in a deadly arc that would no doubt go right through Percy's shield. Instead of blocking it, Percy raised his own sword and with an almost lazy flick of his wrist deflected the blade. He stepped inside the swing of Tyson's axe and brought his shield up, slamming it into the giants nose. Tyson stumbled back, grunting in confusion. It was clear he wasn't used to being beaten, much less by someone as small as Percy. He brought up his giant axe and swung it downwards. Percy dove off to the side, narrowly missing the huge blade, which imbedded itself in the floor with a _thud. _Percy stood up and lunged, slashing with Riptide and cutting a gash in Tyson's stomach.

He stumbled back, yelling in anger. I realized the rest of the fighting on the ship had ceased— all the privateers were defeated and all the pirates were watching their captain fight Tyson. And he was doing alright, too. A collective breath went up around the ship as Tyson swung his sword in a backhand arc that Percy couldn't block with Riptide. He raised his shield and braced for the impact.

Sure enough, the sword cut right through his shield, embedding itself in the metal and sticking there. Tyson roared and gave an almighty yank that sent Percy flying through the air, his shield ripped away and Riptide gone from his hand. He hit the deck hard and stayed there, head lolling to the side. He wasn't unconscious, but he was pretty close and in no position to defend himself as Tyson stalked closer, giant axe ready to strike him down.

The whole ship was frozen. No one made a move to stop it; no one could even think past the shock of seeing their captain be defeated. Despite the hate I harbored for Percy and what he had done to my crew and ship, I couldn't just sit there and watch him die. My mind was begging to do something, but my body was frozen as Tyson started his downwards swing, axe blade flashing in the sun as it descended towards Percy's head.

And then Riptide was there, blocking the blow. I stared in disbelief, because his sword had been halfway across the deck not a moment ago. But there it was, defying belief and any pretence of normality I could retain on this ship.

With a yell, Percy kicked out Tyson's legs and sprang to his feet. Riptide flashed and the giant axe was skittering across the deck as Tyson lay there, looking up at Percy with a confused expression. The son of Poseidon had his sword raised, ready to stab down.

And then he stopped, twirled his sword and sheathed it, stepping away from Tyson and leaving the giant lying on the ground, confused.

"It's too early in the day for killing traitors," Percy muttered. He turned to the crew and seemed to realize they were standing around, staring at them. "Well? What are you waiting for? Man the cannons! Loot the ship! Set the Greek firebombs!" He jerked his thumb at Tyson. "Bring _him_ on board, and make sure he's guarded."

They were all gathered, on a long table in the middle of the ship. Twelve Greek pirates, each dressed in battle armor. A giant map was spread over the table, with the _Argo_ resting just off the coast of Spain. I found it incredible how far we had traveled in a day.

We had been in this room since the battle on the other ship— after Percy had vengefully ordered the other ship to be fired upon until nothing remained of it but shards of wood still burning with Greek fire, a strange, green fire that was extremely deadly from what I had seen. Right now, half of the pirates were on their feet, yelling across the table at each other.

"Coward!"

"Just because I don't smell like a stable, Clarisse…"

"Say that to my face, Stoll. Dare you."

Percy was trying to restore some sort of order, but was failing miserably. Finally, he sank back into his chair at the head of the table, his face set in a cold fury, and slammed Riptide against his shield. Then he flipped the sword, caught it by the blade and hurled it at Clarisse— the bulky, stringy-haired girl who was the cause of most of the arguing. Riptide sailed right past her cheek, just enough to draw blood, and embedded itself in the wall.

"We will have order," Percy commanded calmly in the shocked silence that followed. Despite his relaxed tone, it was laced with malice and the pirates quickly dropped into their seats.

"Good. Now, we know two things for sure," he smiled grimly, looking around the room. "One, we have an offering to Ares that needs to be completed on the holy grounds. Two, we just found a Greek warrior aboard an English ship." Looks of surprise around the room.

"Are you sure?" Jason asked from beside Percy. I wanted to add in my own snide remark about how the Greeks and English would never work together, but then I remembered that Percy had let me attend this meeting for two reasons: one, he didn't want to let me loose on the ship, and two, he wanted to see that the pirates really weren't savage raiders. I had been told if I were to talk, every word I spoke would be a finger I lost.

"No," the captain admitted. "But I've seen the likes of him before— a minor god and a Cyclops, maybe. But he's not English, that's for sure."

_Well, obviously, _I thought. _No Englishman could be that stupid. French, maybe…_

"So what do we do?" This was Will, the lead archer of the ship. He was sitting near the back of the table, with his bow quickly with in reach. Unlike the others, he wasn't dressed in heavy armor, instead covered in a leather woven breastplate and small helmet.

"We keep course," Percy answered. "Go to the temple of Ares in the ancient lands and offer him the sword. That's how we've done it for years now."

"But the English are making plans against us!" Clarisse yelled, standing up and slamming her sword down. "I say we hit them hard before they can pull any plans together. Knock out the threat before it exists!"

This was met by a couple of enthusiastic nods, although Percy shook his head firmly. "Sit down, Clarisse, before I decide to get Riptide out." But Riptide was embedded in the wall behind Clarisse, wasn't it? I let my eyes drift over to the spot where Percy's sword should have been, but there was nothing there. I let my eyes focus on the captain again, and sure enough there it was, hanging from his scabbard. I blinked, surprised. I would inquire as to that later, but for now I focused on the debate.

"We will not stray from our course to the original lands," Percy continued, his voice firm. "The British dare not follow us there, and the only threat we face is my brother. If we're lucky enough to avoid him, then we shall complete the offering and leave the temple in peace. Later, we shall speak of war." He glanced significantly at Clarisse.

"What about Tyson, Perce?" Leo questioned from the left of the table. Percy cocked his head, confused.

"Still in Sparta, competing in the tournament," Percy answered. There were snickers around the table.

"Other Tyson," Thalia laughed. "The one who almost killed you today."

"Oh," Percy muttered, embarrassed. "He did not almost kill me. I had the situation perfectly under control."

"If you say so," Thalia grinned. Percy raised his eyebrows challengingly.

"If I remember, you were too shocked to think of raising your bow, no?" Thalia had no response, and Percy smiled. "Although, you're right; I forgot Tyson. Who's guarding him?"

"Frank and Hazel," Nico supplied. "Since neither of them could be at the council today, I set them that job. It seemed fitting." Percy seemed satisfied by this, and he continued:

"He doesn't seem the most literate—" that was an understatement, I reflected— "So I don't think we'll be able to get much information off of him. It would probably be better to keep him until we reach land, and then dump him off somewhere. We will _not_ kill him." He cast firm eyes around the table, making sure the statement settled in. "Good."

"Adjourned?" Jason asked formally from beside Percy.

"Are there any more points we want to talk about?" Percy questioned, looking around the room. I was confused by their speech: one minute they were formal and polite, the next they were casual and careless. It was confusing, but somewhat catchy, I reflected.

"What about her?" Will asked, pointing at me. All eyes slid immediately to me.

"She'll sail with us," Percy ordered. "I'll train her myself, and we'll find her a proper weapon that she can use. And then, hopefully, suspicions will be confirmed, and she'll become part of our crew."

"I'll never join you!" I yelled before I could even stop myself. I clamped my hands over my mouth, realizing soon I would be down to six fingers. Percy shot me a warning glare but made no further move.

"_Permission to speak," _he told me. "And I wouldn't jump to conclusions, Miss Chase. You never know what may appear out of the blue… or the grey, in this case." His eyes glittered as if he had made some clever joke. A couple of the pirates were smirking as well, and I felt infuriated at the fact I was being held in the dark.

"What if she tries something?" Jason asked. I could tell by his look he didn't trust me the slightest, probably because I had stabbed his captain.

"Well, then the oath breaks," Percy reasoned simply. "And we have full permission to kill her without a second thought." He stood up and scanned the room once more. "Set sail for the ancient lands, but sail with heed; we're in Atlas's waters now, and I want a lookout on the tower every minute of the day. Adjourned."

The pirates climbed to their feet and began filing out of the room one by one. Percy and I were last out, and I kept a safe distance from him.

"Follow me," he ordered. "You'll start your training today."

"I need not learn how to fight with a sword," I said strictly. "I fight with a gun and with my words, and that is all one needs." Percy smirked.

"Suit yourself," he said, wheeling and walking out. I stood there for a moment, debating whether to follow him or not. It would show strength to refuse to learn how to fight with a sword. On the other hand, I kind of did have to learn how to protect myself…

Cursing under my breath, I followed Percy out the door and down the stairs. He led me down into the bowels up the ship, past the armory and the sleeping quarters and through a thick wooden door that led to the a huge room, with straw mats covering the floor and straw dummies set up along one wall. There was an assortment of weapons and practice weapons: wooden swords, lighter shields, sticks with weighted ends to stimulate a spear.

"Lets see what you can do," Percy said, bouncing on the balls of his feet as I entered the room. The last time I had been alone with Percy I had stabbed him, but I dare not try that now. He was fully armed and clad in protective metal plates, with his shield in one hand and his sword in another. He was fully alert and waiting for an attack.

"Now?" I was, shocked. "Shouldn't I practice first… learn some strikes… use wooden weapons?" At the academy, we started with wooden sticks on poles, learning repetitive sequences over and over again with swords that were quite different from the Greeks. They were lighter and thinner, built for stabbing, not slashing or blocking. The Greek sword was shorter but thicker, with a razor-sharp tip and a double-edged blade.

"You do that when you're six years old," Percy snorted. "The best way to learn is to fight." With that, he swung Riptide in an arc at my chest. Accustomed to English fighting, I jumped back to avoid the strike and jabbed forwards with my sword. Percy easily blocked, before taking another, overhand swing. This time I used my shield to block it, wincing as the reverberations echoed around my ears. I slashed with my sword at Percy, who blocked with Riptide effortlessly.

"Not bad," he admitted. "What about your footwork?" he stepped to the right and swung. I turned and countered, blocking with my sword for the first time.

"No!" Percy said. "Look at your arm. What are you doing?" I looked down at my arm, which was straightened fully, elbow locked in place and wrist stiff.

"I need to stiffen it so I can parry," I explained, wondering how he didn't know this.

"But then your arm is in bad position," Percy chided. To prove his point, he swung his shield, slamming into mine and causing me to stumble back.

"What did that have to do where my sword was?" I demanded, glaring at him. My shoulder hurt from where he had rammed me.

"Not your sword," Percy corrected. "Mine." Seeing the puzzled look on my face, he explained. "Take a swing at me, hard as you can."

I swung overhand, happy to oblige his order. I put my fully weight under the swing, planning to stop just an inch above his head— not for his benefit, for mine. If I killed him I wouldn't see another day. Percy brought Riptide up and blocked, deflecting my sword off to the side and causing me to lose my balance. I understood immediately.

"You flick your wrist right before my blade hits yours," I said. Percy nodded, pleased, and gestured for me to continue. "You have a relaxed arm, and right before the two swords collide, you straighten your wrist and send my sword off balance and way off to the side, opening up my defense."

"Exactly," Percy said, pleased. He swung Riptide and I tried to imitate his block, flicking my wrist at the last moment and deflecting his blade. I stepped forwards and shoved with my shield, sending him sprawling. He hit the floor and I surged forwards, sticking the edge of my sword against his throat. He looked surprised, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Not so mighty now, are we?" I teased, stepping back and letting him stand up. Before I could react, he swept out a leg and knocked me down, before standing up and lowering his sword. We had switched positions.

"Still pretty mighty," Percy smirked, stepping back. "On your feet now, lets spar." I climbed to my feet and attacked him with an underhand swing that he nimbly dodged. For the next half hour we sparred, dancing across the room and back, swords' clashing with sparks. Percy was completely at ease as we fought, his arms relaxed, every move fluent and effortless. I had never seen anyone quite like him, and this was the excuse I used to justify one solid fact:

He destroyed me. Sure, I got the better of him a couple of times, forcing him to surrender, but for the most part he was completely in control. It wasn't necessarily he was a better fighter; he just knew how to use his weapons better. I would jab with my sword. He would jab with his sword slightly to the left to force your shield out of a blocking position, then bring his sword back and stab, blade stopping inches from my chest.

Finally, we stopped fighting after he disarmed me and sent my sword skidding away. We were both breathing heavily, and Percy wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not bad," he admitted, sheathing Riptide. "We'll continue tomorrow. Until then, take a bath, change your clothes and prepare for diner. You'll eat with us."

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked him as I bent down to grab my sword. Perhaps I could send a message to a British fleet and they could intercept the _Argo_ before sending her to the bottom of the sea.

Even as I thought this, though, I knew it was a half-hearted suggestion to myself. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt a connection to the Greeks, and their style of life was just so much more relaxed than the English. I had taken a liking to it, and at heart I was in no rush to get out. Maybe I could… stay?

The idea was ridiculous, but I couldn't ignore it. Maybe I could become a pirate as well, sailing the ancient waters alongside Percy. Maybe as more than friends.

Okay, that was dangerous territory. I couldn't fall in love— partly because, back in England, I was sworn to marry the son of my fathers long-time friend as soon as I hit seventeen. That probably wasn't going to happen now, but it still felt wrong to fall in love with someone else. Even if Percy was completely gorgeous, with his square jaw, green eyes and dark black hair.

"We're sailing to the ancient lands of Greece," Percy said. "The temples of the gods are located there, and we have an offering to make."

"The giant sword," I guess, and Percy nodded.

"It's for Ares, god of war," he said. "We're, well, you could say we're the knew heart of Greece. We're the biggest ship, that's for sure."

"So the gods go to you with offerings?" I asked, and Percy nodded.

"They don't offer things to us," he corrected. "We offer things to them. And sometimes we just take messages that are two big for them, and pass it on the Greece…"

"Greece?" I asked, surprised. "Greece burned."

"Half-blood hill did not," Percy countered. "A safe haven for Greeks now, half human, and some demi gods as well. They're keeping the flame going."

"What flame?" I demanded, now utterly confused. Percy shook his head, seeming to realize he was giving away too much information.

"Another day," he assured. "For now, go and bathe. I shall see you at supper." He left down the hall and I stood there for a moment, wondering where I was going to change clothes or take a bath. I wandered aimlessly for a couple of minutes, marveling at the ships architecture and size, before Thalia found me.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, her tone strict but not unfriendly. A hand reached for her bow, but she didn't nock and arrow. It was pretty obvious I was unarmed.

"Percy and I were sparring," I replied. "He told me to take a bath and change for supper, but I don't know where anything is." Thalia sighed and slung her bow back over her shoulder, shaking her head and muttering.

"Follow me," she smiled. "We have a room for you, I think." She led me through the ship without any hesitation. I fiddled with the sword on my hip when an idea came to me.

"Could you lead me to the armory?" I asked suddenly. Thalia looked up, surprised.

"Why?"

"I want a better weapon," I said, knowing it sounded obnoxious. "This ones off balance, and it just doesn't feel good in my hand."

"I guess…" Thalia said hesitantly. "Don't want to make Percy mad, but he _is_ trying to turn you into a warrior. I don't think he would mind." She changed course and I smiled to myself. I did want another weapon because my sword was off balance, but I also just wanted to see the ship again.

Thalia knew the ship as well as Percy, and she even pulled a couple of shortcuts that got us to the armory faster than Percy could have. We entered the massive forge and Thalia immediately headed over to the large selection of knives along one wall. I followed uncertainly. Most of the Greeks fought swords, and a knife would be quite a bit shorter. It would put me at a disadvantage.

"Try this one," Thalia said, picking up a razor-sharp blade and tossing it carelessly to me. I caught it and held it in my hand, making a face and shaking my head.

"Not for me."

"I guess not," Thalia nodded, picking another blade. We searched for a while, but none of them felt just right. I was about to suggest we went to the swords when a bronze knife caught my eye. I hesitantly picked it up.

"Noooo," Thalia cut in. "Not that one." I frowned and felt the knife. It seemed just right in my hands, the grip fitting perfectly and it was perfectly balanced.

"What's wrong with this one?" I questioned, flipping it experimentally.

"Percy… well, it was a gift," Thalia explained. "To Luke… it was really traumatic. A long time friend of his… and a prophecy." I was just getting more and more confused, but what I _did_ know was the knife fit well in my hands and I wanted to keep it. Thalia could probably see this in my eyes, for she sighed in defeat.

"Fine," she muttered. "It's a good blade, strong but quick. The best way to use it is to get on the inside of your opponents guard, so they can't hit you with a sword. You're shield is essential while fighting with a knife, and it takes someone whose pretty smart to do it."

"Well good thing," I smiled, and Thalia laughed.

"Two rights and a left," she told me. "There'll be a room labeled 6 on the door. Go in there, there should be clothes and a bath. Ask for Malcolm, he'll help you out." I nodded in understanding and took the blade in my hands. It had a sheath attached, but I kept it in my hands as I followed where Thalia had directed me. I found the room and stepped inside, looking around.

It was decently big, with about twelve beds spread across the wall. They each had a tall closet next to them with shelves and a dresser that no doubt contained clothes and probably weapons. About half the beds were full of boys and girls about my age, who looked up when I walked in. Some of them were tending to weapons, but the majority were reading in ancient Greek.

One of the kids stood up— blonde hair and grey eyes just like me. I considered this odd, because almost no one in Britain shared my grey eyes. Perhaps it was a Greek thing, and I had been the unlucky kid who got them as well.

"I'm Malcolm," the boy greeted, extending his hand. I shook it warily. "I'm the leader of the Athena group on board the _Argo_."

"Why did Percy send me here?" I asked, confused. Surely he didn't think…"

"Um, Athena is goddess of wisdom," Malcolm explained hurriedly. "Perhaps she thought it would be best that you stayed with us… for your safety… and she sent Percy a message." He seemed relieved with this explanation, though I still had my doubts. I let my eyes drift down to the book he still had in his hand, one finger marking the page he was on.

"_Monster slaying: The herculean guide,_" I read. "That seems interesting." Malcolm froze and looked at me cautiously.

"That title is in Ancient Greek," he said slowly. "How did you read it?"

* * *

**And the plot thickens! Congratulations to KatieElizibethGrace, who figured out about Annabeth two chapters ago. Can anyone else guess what it is? it really isn't that hard :P**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Look! A chapter!**

**A lot of you guessed the thing about Annabeth, so I guess it's not that secret after all :p**

* * *

"Ancient…. Greek?" I said eventually, each word slowly forming on my tongue. My mind was whirling with confusion, but I could think of no explanation as to why I could read to title. I ran a mental checklists of all the languages I spoke: French, English, Spanish, Portuguese, a little bit of Danish, but no Ancient Greek.

All the other kids in the Athena room were now eyeing me cautiously, as if I were an enemy or a bomb. Malcolm stared at me cautiously for a second, before clearing his throat and looking away. He pointed towards the farthest bed, which was unmade but still looked welcoming, considering the last sleep I had gotten in two days were snatched hours on the hard floor of the brig.

"You can sleep there," Malcolm told me. "Weapons go in the cabinet, and there should be fresh clothes in there— courtesy of Athena, or maybe Aphrodite. Diner is soon, so you might want to take a bath quickly. I'm sure someone can lend you a hairbrush, and there's fresh bars of soap in there." He gestured to the washroom. "Come on, guys, we have sword fighting practice."

Without a word, the rest of the Athena group got to their feet and headed out the door after Malcolm, grabbing an assortment of weapons and armor out of their cabinets as they went. I stayed standing where I was till they left, trying to figure out how I had been able to read the writing. Maybe Malcolm had been lying about the Ancient Greek, and they were just playing a trick on me? I hadn't actually gotten a good look at the book title for sure, so I didn't know what language it was in. I settled for that answer as I headed towards the washroom and the baths, but I still wasn't satisfied. I would take this up with Percy at diner, even if it meant getting in trouble afterwards.

The baths were incredible, simple yet complex. They were made out of bronze, with a beaten leather coating on the inside of the bath to prevent the metal from getting too hot. A roof system a diagonal pipes brought water down into the baths, and there was a fire pit underneath each one that heated the water.

I walked up to one of the baths and examined it, running my hands over the metal. It was beaten well, but not perfectly; I could feel small imperfections along the outside of the tub. Shrugging, I looked up at the wooden pipe that was hanging over the bath. There was a piece of string dangling down from it, and I pulled it firmly, watching as the pipe opened up and water poured out into the bath. I didn't even have to hold it open, because the water pressure did that for me, so I bent down and started the fire under the bath using a piece of flint I found lying on the ground.

The water cut of automatically when the tub was three-quarters full and the stopper snapped back into place. I stepped back as the fire underneath reached its full size, licking at the bronze sides of the bath. I waited ten minutes until I felt the water should be hot enough, then grabbed soap and a random hairbrush and settled into the water. The leather did an extraordinary job at keeping the bottom of the tub cool instead of the scorching hot it should be based on the fact there was a fire burning right beneath me. I soaped off thoroughly, washing away the dirt and grime and blood off of my body. Next I soaked my hair, before scrubbing it well and soaking it again. The water slowly got dirtier, but I didn't care; I just sat there and combed my hair to finish off, finally standing up and drying off with one of the towels that were folded neatly by the door.

I felt better than I had in days— sharp, refreshed and ready for anything that could come my way. In the wardrobe I found my shield and knife, along with an assortment of clothes, from trousers and suspenders to dresses to Greek robes. I decided that if I were going to play pirate, I might as well dress with one. I wasn't quite _sure _how they dressed, but the majority of the clothes were practical yet comfortable trousers and shirts. I put on black trousers and a white shirt, before wrapping a belt around my waist and strapping my knife to it. I examined myself in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw; I looked calm, collected and yet fierce. I liked the way the knife looked on my hip, and how the pirate clothes seemed to fit me naturally.

Just as I had finished changing and admiring myself, the rest of the Athena kids filed in, sweaty and exhausted. They barely cast an eye over me before heading to the baths, muttering under their breath:

"Percy almost cut my head off…"

"We're in practice, not an actual battle…."

"I though a shield was a defense mechanism, not a battering ram…"

It was clear Percy had been training them, and while the complaints were against him, they were uttered with respect and good-nature; it was clear Percy was a liked captain. I had seen the way he ran his ship, and though he may not be as good a captain as Octavian— too quick to act and a little violent at times— he was impressive for someone with his age and experience. I realized that I no longer thought of the Greeks with resentment anymore, just respect and a slight bit of awe. It was shocking how quickly I had changed, but when I looked back on it I could see why: They had been nothing but fair and kind to me and they were far more civil than I had originally thought.

Malcolm was the first to finish his bath, emerging dressed in white robes.

"Oh good, you're ready," he said tiredly. "Diners in a few minutes, so you can just follow us there. I'm not sure where you'll sit…"

"She'll sit with me," a new voice said, and I turned over in my bed to see Percy standing there, leaning on Riptide. He had discarded his armor and shield, dressed instead in black trousers and a robe covering his upper body, tossed carelessly over his shoulder. A belt was secure around his waist and he wore the distinctive leather hat of a captain.

"Oh, hey Perce," Malcolm yawned, barely paying attention to the captain as he started to pull on a shirt. "Do you think you could give me some help after diner with that disarming maneuver?"

"You can ask Jason," Percy shook his head. "I have something I want to look into with Nico, and I'm captain now, so I'll probably be needed somewhere on the ship." His eyes settled on me and my heart leaped. "I see you've settled in, Annabeth. And you got a knew weapon?"

"The sword wasn't working," I told him as I swept passed. "May I ask why I'll be accompanying you at the table?"

"You can drop the formality," Percy smiled. "I'm a captain, not a god."

"Not that you treat them with any respect either," Malcolm muttered from a few feat away. Percy grinned, amused, before turning back to me.

"The crew still isn't fully trusting of you," he explained. "Jason is cautious and Clarisse hates you, so I'm offering you protection."

"I don't need you holding my hand," I answered rudely, but I knew it wasn't true. Percy didn't answer, just nodded to the members of the Athena group and led me towards diner. We walked quickly through the bowels of the ship, passing a few Greeks along the way. They all acknowledged Percy in one way or another, either with a half-hearted salute or a nod of the head. They were a lot more casual then the men on board the _Arthur, _and I liked it. It made me feel like I was at home, not on a ship as a job. It also made me worried about how attached I was becoming to the _Argo_.

Percy pushed open the oak doors that led to a large dining room. There were tens of tables, spread out at an even placing and all holding about twenty people. All in all, it made for a lot of Greeks that could fit in this room. The ceiling was high and grand, with crystal chandeliers hanging down and windows that reflected the sunlight in. plates were already set, and there was a kitchen behind a bar where food was served. It was, as always when it came to the Argo, and impressive set-up.

"This is where we eat," Percy explained. "Some of out staff are very talented when it comes to growing food, so we have a sort of vegetable garden aboard the Argo. Our icebox is enchanted by Boreas to stay cool."

"Boreas?"

"God of the north winds," Percy explained. " We helped him out once and he gave us that as a reward for our service. You'll often see stuff like that around the Argo— little magical trinkets that shouldn't exist but do."

"Like you," I pointed out, and Percy winced. I had hit a sore spot, and I immediately felt bad.

"Technically, you're right," he agreed. "Gods shouldn't breed with mortals, and I'm against an ancient law…" he stopped, before clearing his throat. "But I do exist, as you can see."

"How did you do it?" I asked. "When you healed yourself— how?"

"The water gives me strength," Percy said. "I can control it, and it can heal me when I'm injured."

"Because you're a son of Poseidon?"

"Yes," Percy clarified. "Jason's a son of Zeus, same with Thalia. They're both quite powerful when it comes to the elements."

"More powerful than you?" I asked. Percy thought for a moment before responding.

"It depends on ones definition of power," he answered at length. "Nico is also very skilled, especially when it comes to staying hidden. We are all, the four of us. We should be, seeing as we're descendants of the big three."

"Big three?" I wondered.

"The three major gods: Poseidon, Zeus and Hades," Percy explained patiently. "Hazel's a descendant as well, although hr power is different."

"What is it?"

"Lets just say we've never had a problem with funding," Percy smirked, and left it at that. Other demigods were filing into the room now as Percy led me to a table and sat down. There seemed to an order to which they sat, because they all walked with purpose and sat down confidently at their tables. Thalia, Hazel, Nico, Jason, Leo a big Chinese guy, and a pretty girl with brown hair joined us. They all smiled at Percy before sinking into their seats.

"I'm Piper," the girl smiled to me, holding out her hand to shake. I took it, and noticed that she too had a knife on her belt. It was longer than mine, and seemed to catch in the light and reflect images. For a second, I could swear I saw a low, bronze ship racing through the waters, but I dismissed it as my imagination.

"Frank," the boy greeted, nodding at me. He had a bow slung across his back with about half the amount of arrows Thalia had in her quiver.

"So we're keeping her?" Jason asked bluntly. I scowled at him and was pleased to see Percy glaring as well.

"She's not a dog, Jason," he said, tight-lipped. "She is my guest, and you shall treat her with respect."

"Luke would have slain her on the spot," Jason challenged, and Percy's eyes narrowed further.

"Perhaps, if you doubt my leadership, you should leave the vessel?" Percy suggested. "I do believe we're in Spanish waters, and after the raid on their national back two years ago, I'm sure you would be welcomed with warm arms." Jason glared but backed off.

"When do we get food?" I wondered. It was rude, but hey, I was starving. Percy held up a finger, signaling for me to wait.

A breeze blew by my shoulder and I spun around, jumping with fright as a plate clattered down onto my placemat. All around me, blurs were zipping around the room and delivering food at break-neck speed.

"Wind nymphs," Piper explained, seeing the confused look on my face. "They deliver the food, which is made by their cousins, the tree nymphs."

"Of course," I murmured. "Tree nymphs. Why not?" Piper grinned.

"You get sort of used to it," she said. "Just wait until we get to the temple of Ares… that's when people normally freak out."

"What happens?" I asked, and Piper just smiled. I looked down at the food: bread, meat, a slice of thin pizza, a selection of fruit and a glass of milk. It looked delicious, though I was hesitant to eat. What if they were poisoning me?

A second later I realized how foolish that was. If the Greeks wanted me dead I would have been sliced in half hours ago. They were keeping me alive for some strange reason, and who was I to object? I grabbed the utensils and reached for my food.

A loud conch horn sounded and action in the room froze. Percy shot to his feet, reaching for Riptide. "Piper!" he snapped. "Blade!"

Immediately, Piper ripped out her knife and stared into the flat of the blade intently. It rippled for a second, before I was able to make out the same image I had seen earlier: a short, sleek ship coated in bronze racing through the waters. This time, however, I could make out another ship in the distance. The Argo.

We were under attack.

Linebreak

"Battle positions!" Percy screamed, looking around frantically. "Man the ballista's! Up to the deck! Move, move, move!"

Greeks scrambled around, flinging away plates and grabbing weapons. I was stuck in a whirlwind of confusion until Piper came to my side, grabbing my arm and hauling me through the crowd towards the exit. Percy was already gone, racing up the stairs and onto the deck. I could still hear him yelling at the top of his lungs, telling the pirates to get into position and ready for battle.

"What's happening?" I hollered to Piper, who was still plowing through the group of people, though with increasing difficulty.

"Some ship's attacking ours," she explained, grunting as she shoved through a not of people. "And that ship… well, lets just say it isn't good news."

"Pipes!" Jason yelled from across the room. And then he was next to us, grabbing Piper by her other hand and steaming across the deck. Pirates parted before his golden sword as he led us up onto the deck. We burst through the door, and I focused on the problem.

I wished I hadn't.

The ship that was racing towards the _Argo _was marginally smaller, but it was covered in shiny bronze plating and seemed to glow in the light. A red triangle was painted on the side. It consisted of only two sails, but it was so sleek it was gaining on us by the second. Percy was standing on the railing, balanced precariously and staring down the other ship as if he could stop it by sheer willpower.

A whistling sound filled the air and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I saw a long, straight object flit across the sky. A spear, headed straight for Percy. It was clear whoever was throwing it had lethal accuracy, and even from such a distance the spear was traveling too fast for the eye to follow.

Percy barely reacted, just tilted his head slightly to the side and dodging the spear. He continued to glare at the other ship as Nico ran up to him, carrying his armor.

"Get dressed, Perce. If that's whom we think it is, you won't stand a chance without your armor," Nico panted, and Percy reluctantly stepped down and started pulling on his armor. All around, archers, warriors and the men who fired the ballista's were tense and ready for battle, but none of them were firing.

"What are they waiting for?" I whispered to Piper. It was such a tense moment, it just felt right to keep my voice down.

"Percy's order," she told me. "That ship has his brother on board." I stepped back, shocked. I had thought for a second the only demi-gods were aboard the _Argo, _but apparently not. And if the other ship bore demi-gods, then why were all the men preparing for war?

Percy was now fully dressed, with silver armor, a shield, two spears and Riptide. He looked imposing and confident, but uncertainty bubbled in his striking green eyes, which only proved to unsettle me more. What kind of a warrior would make Percy nervous?

Suddenly, the bronze ship pulled up next to ours and stopped, right next to the _Argo_ but twenty feet lower. A voice bellowed out:

"_Perseus!" _

"Atlas!"

"Hello, brother!"

"Lower the ship," Percy commanded Leo. "And drop the gangplank. I have some family issues to settle." The Latino boy scampered off, and moments later the _Argo _began to sink into the sea until we were level with the bronze boat. A wooden plank about five feet wide thudded down, and a man appeared.

He was possibly the most imposing man I had ever seen. Almost seven feet tall and dressed fully in gold armor and shield. He wore no helmet, and I could see piercing, cold blue eyes even from fifty feet away. He was on the slimmer end, but he had a huge black sword strapped to his side and two massive spears on his back, just like Percy.

Percy stepped up onto the plank of wood, and so did Atlas. They faced each other off for a second, both just standing there and glowering at each other. I felt the _Argo_ lurch dangerously beneath my feet and realized they were testing wills in terms of their control over the elements.

"Long time, no see, _brother_," Atlas sneered at Percy, who had one hand firmly on Riptide. The other held his shield.

"These are my waters, brother," he snarled, his voice full of anger. "I'll give you one chance to turn your ship around and leave, or you and all your men can die."

Atlas let out a low laugh. "I don't think so, brother. We both know who's ship would win in a battle."

"Many have made the mistake of underestimating the _Argo_ and her crew." Percy smiled lethally. "Don't be one of them."

"I don't want to see another massacre," Atlas said lazily, ignoring Percy's threats. "We'll settle this battle the old way: Your best fighter against mine." Percy's knuckles went white against the hilt of Riptide.

"We both know who those people would be," Percy growled. I was terrified Percy, because just by reading their body language I could tell that Percy was the lesser fighter in this battle. If it came to a sword fight, the _Argo_ would be without a captain twice in two days.

"Scared, brother?" Atlas taunted, and Percy's face turned hard.

"Never," he whispered. Atlas smirked cockily.

"Some ground rules," he told Percy, as if he were a three-year old. I was really starting to hate this guy, and I had never felt so helpless in my life. I wanted to help Percy, but if I stepped up onto the plank Atlas would cut me in half without a second thought, especially because all I had was my dagger. Percy, at least, was dressed for battle.

"No one shall interfere," Atlas announced, projecting his voice so the crew of both ships could hear. "Only the weapons he have on us right now shall be allowed. The loser will be dead and their ship sank with no resistance." Percy was looking almost bored, as if he had been in this position many times before.

"Any violators of these terms will be subjected to eternity in the fields of punishment," Percy finished. "I swear on the river Styx."

"As do I," Atlas agreed. Both fighters squared each other off, stepping back to their respective sides of the plank and turning to face each other.

_No! _ I wanted to yell, but I held by tongue. I wasn't allowed to interfere with the fight, and that made it worse— forced to stand and watched as the man who had saved my life multiple times was now slaughtered by his own brother.

Both fighters moved at the same time, both with blinding speed. Percy drew his first spear and hurdled it at Atlas with lethal aim. Atlas drew both his twin knives and threw them at Percy.

Both warriors should have died right there. Instead, Atlas caught the spear out of mid-air and snapped it over his knee, discarding of it without a second thought. It was incredible how easily he had stopped Percy's lightning-fast throw.

Percy had two knives to dodge, but he did it with ease. The first one he let sail right by his ear, barely flinching. The second one he raised Riptide, caught the knife on the curve of his sword and send it flying back at Atlas, who once again plucked the spinning blade out of mid-air without a second thought.

"Not bad, brother," Atlas smirked. He drew his first spear and drove it into the wood. "Now it's an even fight."

"Pick up your spear, brother," Percy growled, drawing his second and advancing. "You're going to need it." Atlas shrugged and tugged at that of the weapon, but the blade was lodged too deep into the wood. Instead, he broke off the shaft and prepared for Percy, who was now in a full sprint, head for his brother. Right as they were about the meet, Percy leaped into the air on Atlas's left and drove his spear downwards, headed for his brothers neck. Atlas blocked with his shield, but the impact sent him stumbling back a step. Percy landed and the two exchanged a series of lightning-fast blows, the crack of wood against wood sounding like gunshots to my terrified ears.

The two warriors back away from each other, breathing heavily and glaring. With a yell, Atlas swung his spear in an over-hand attach, which Percy deflected with a flick of his blade. He stepped forwards and jabbed but Atlas dodged, once again swinging an over-hand. This time, Percy was forced to bring his spear up horizontally to block.

The shaft snapped in half and Percy stumbled back. Atlas had broken his spear as well and he threw it aside, pulling his second one. Percy was left fighting with two pieces of wood, his shield slung back over his shoulder.

He advanced, spinning on his heel and lashing out. Atlas dodged twice and struck out with his spear. Percy side stepped and jabbed down with the pointy half of his spear, catching the cuff of Atlas's trousers and pinning him to the spot. Atlas swung his spear again, but Percy stepped inside his guard and used the second half of his spear to catch the swing.

He cocked back his right arm and punched Atlas in the face, hard. Blood spurted from the mans nose as he roared in pain, bringing the butt end of his spear around and slamming Percy in the chest. My breath caught as Percy went sailing backwards, and hard and rolling. Atlas yanked his leg free and charged.

He jabbed with his massive spear and I felt Jason cringed as the point aimed to Percy's chest. Faster than I believed possible, Percy brought his shield around and blocked, retreating across the deck. The two fighters had switched sides now, so Atlas had his back to us. I wanted to run up and stab him in the back, but I knew someone would stop be before that could happen. It was up to Percy to win this fight.

Atlas swung again and Percy used both hands on his shield, deflecting the blow and causing Atlas to lose his balance, but not for long. He recovered before Percy could attack struck again. This time, Percy deflected the blow into the ground, stepped on Atlas's spear to keep it steady and smashed it in half with his shield. He spun, drawing Riptide and jabbing with such incredible speed my breath caught in my throat. I though he had won right there, but Atlas blocked with his arm guard and kicked Percy in the chest. Once again, Percy went sailing backwards, landing just a few feet away from the deck of the enemy ship.

You could cut through the silence on the deck with a knife; every single pirate was holding their breath, watching their captain fight for his life. Atlas drew his massive sword, held it in both hands and charged, his shield held over his back. Percy leaped to his feet rushed Atlas, Riptide at the ready.

The two met halfway through the deck. The exchange couldn't have lasted more than a second and a half, but I was sure more than ten blows were exchanged. I can't really say what happened; the two fighters were upon each other, and then there was a blur of bronze and black and the sounds of ringing metal. Then Percy was backing up, his back once again to the _Argo_, and Atlas was drawing his shield.

Despite how well the fight had gone so far, I knew, deep in my heart, that Percy could loose. Atlas was so much more at ease than the son of Poseidon, every move effortless and composed. He was smiling easily, where as Percy was panting and grimacing. He advanced on Percy, hiding behind his shield and with his sword pointed at Percy's chest. Percy did the same thing, readjusting his grip on Riptide and bracing his shield. They shuffled slowly towards each other, meeting in the middle of the deck again.

Percy was the first to attack, feigning to the right and swinging his shield horizontally. Atlas jumped back and struck with his sword, a huge over-hand swing that would cleave Percy down to the waist. Percy raised Riptide and almost lazily blocked, a quick flick of his wrist deflected the powerful blow. He leaped forwards, slamming his shield against Atlas and shoving. It would have worked, had Atlas not been a foot taller and much heavier. When Percy pushed, Atlas shoved back and sent Percy stumbling. His foot caught on a knot on the wood and he fell to the ground, shield skidding off the boardwalk and falling into the ocean.

"Get up," Atlas commanded. "Get up, _Prince of Greece. _I won't let a board take my glory." He threw aside his own shield and rushed at Percy, who was still dazed. He barely had time to block the swing jab with Riptide. Atlas backed off, giving Percy enough time to leap to his feet.

Now I was really scared. Percy looked exhausted, where as Atlas was barely breaking sweat. With only Riptide in his hand, it couldn't be long before Percy lost this fight. Jason was standing there with agony written over his face, his sword clenched tightly in his hand.

Maybe for the last time, Atlas advanced on the captain of the _Argo_. Percy stood there expectantly, his eyes hard and his face determined.

And then Atlas was on top of him, and Percy was fighting for his life. Swords met, sparks flew, and Atlas slowly drove Percy back across the gangplank. I could barely follow the fighting; all I could make out were two blurs, one bronze, one black, that would stop every so often when one blocked the other.

Percy faked left and cut under-hand. Atlas dodged backwards, but Riptide left a long shallow cut on his cheek. I felt my spirits leap; Percy had drawn the first blood, and now he had the upper hand.

Sure enough, the victory seemed to energize Percy. He drove Atlas back with a flurry of blows, and the bigger man roared in fury. He couldn't do anything, however; Percy's attacks came fast and furiously, Riptide flashing in the sun as he struck again and again.

Atlas let his guard drop, just for a second, and Percy lunged with a jab that was aimed for Atlas's midriff. I felt a breath go up on the deck of the _Argo_ as the prospect of Percy winning went through everyone's mind.

Atlas cleanly side-stepped and sent Percy stumbling by him, losing his balance and falling. Atlas let out a deep laugh as he loomed over Percy.

"You call yourself a fighter?" he sneered. "I could have killed you at any time, Perseus. I was toying with you, testing you, learning how much of a disgrace you were to the name of Poseidon."

"At least dad likes me," Percy growled, and Atlas's face twisted into an ugly sneer. He raised his sword in an execution stance, ready to drive it through Percy's stomach and end his life. I could feel tears prickling at the side of my eye, and I shoved them down. If the Greeks could stay strong through this, than so could I.

"Go to Hades," Atlas hissed, driving his sword downwards. I cringed, but Percy had other ideas. He rolled to the side and the sword thudded into the deck, sinking almost three inches into the wood. Percy grabbed Atlas's hands, pulled back and kicked his brother in the stomach, sending him flying over head and crashing into the deck, his sword discarded and his armor dented. Percy got up and advanced, his face set in stone.

"Brother…" Atlas began, but Percy didn't even acknowledge him. he kicked Atlas in the chest, sending the giant man to his knees, and then, with a yell, swung Riptide at Atlas's neck. It braced myself for blood and guts, but Percy stopped Riptide less than an inch away from Atlas's neck. The huge warrior blinked in surprise.

"That's for dad," Percy growled, stepping back. "And because I could have loved you, had you given me the chance." He stepped away. "Turn your ship around, Atlas, and never come here again. I'll take your sword as a spoil of war, and if I ever see you again I'll cut you in half without thinking twice."

"Thank you," Atlas gasped. Percy stared at him for another second, almost mournfully, before turning and walking back to the _Argo_. He was halfway there, just passing Atlas's sword, when Atlas climbed to his feet again and rushed Percy. I opened my mouth to cry out a warning, but Jason beat me to it.

"Perce!"

Percy didn't even turn; he just kept walking as Atlas drew closer and closer. Percy was now only a few feet from the _Argo, _and I could see Jason drawing his sword, ready to protect his captain.

He never got the chance.

Atlas reached his sword and yanked it out of the wood with one clean stroke. As soon as he did that, I realized his mistake: the wood, already weakened from the initial stab, now gave away under the weight of Atlas and the way he had pulled out the sword.

There was a deafening _crack_ in the air as the board of wood snapped clean in half. Atlas had a moment to look surprised before he dropped to the water, screaming as he fell. I stared, wide-eyed at Percy.

"Fire the ballista's," he growled to the crew. "Whoever hits Atlas gets into Elysium." The crew scrambled to their massive weapons and started aiming at the figure of Atlas, far below in the water.

"No second chances," Percy muttered remorselessly as he strode away from the other ship.

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**For anyone who's wondering, Atlas is not the Titan Atlas. Atlas is the Greek Son of Poseidon Atlas, who actually exists, so don't get mad at me. **

**Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Whew. I did not think I would be able to get this chapter out this week, but somehow I did. It's shorter, and there isn't much action in it, but it's a chapter. **

**And for all the people asking for Percabeth— patience, my readers :p they have to become friends before they can go out. I tried to add a bit to this chapter, however. **

* * *

"Your sword," Percy bellowed, striding in between the rows of assembled Greeks. I was standing there at the front, dressed in battle armor and holding my knife. Two days had passed since the incident with the other ship— enough time for the crew of the _Argo _to loot everything of value from Atlas's vessel and then send it to the bottom on the ocean. Currently, Percy had about fifty Greeks lined up, all dressed for battle. He was teaching sword-fighting class.

"Your sword is not a weapon," Percy finished, holding up Riptide to show. "Your sword," he continued. "Is not a tool, or a device. Your sword is not a strip of metal shaped at seven thousand degrees in the forges of Hephaestus." He paused. "Well, mine is. Yours isn't." Chuckles spread through the group of assembled pirates. I studied Percy; he looked good as new, with no scars on his face and almost no sign of his fight with Atlas. His green eyes were back to their normal mischievous light, not the hard, cold warrior I had seen earlier during the fight.

I liked Percy better this way. He was more accessible, more of a normal person and not the heartless captain I had seen from him before. It made his face light up and made him look handsomer.

"Your sword," Percy finished. "Is a part of your body." To demonstrate, he flipped Riptide up in the air, before spinning it around his hand and catching it with his other one. I could see a little slip-up there— he hadn't meant to do that, and he had barely managed to save his sword from falling.

"Your sword should move as part of you," he said, spinning Riptide quickly on his hands. "It shouldn't feel awkward in any way— a swing should be as natural as a blink."

"I hate it when he gets over-dramatic," Thalia mumbled from next to me. Piper was on my other side, and Jason was next to her. They were holding hands, and I made note to talk to Piper about that after. Nico was behind Percy, leaning against the wall. The shadows seemed to almost swallow him so he wasn't there at all.

"I can teach you how to hold your sword," Percy was still talking. I forced myself to look back at him, which really wasn't that hard. "I can teach you the strikes, and the blocks and the thrust and the parry's. Put unless you really know what you're doing, you'll never be a true warrior. The English made this mistake. We won't!"

The fifty pirates let out a loud cheer that I didn't join in to. Hearing them insulting my original home left a bitter taste in my mouth, like I had swallowed liquid metal. Even though I was drawing closer to the pirates— Percy in particular— I still didn't feel completely at home with them.

"Pair up," Percy yelled, trying to keep the hype of his statement going. "I want all of you to practice the disarming maneuvers we learned today. Winning is good; maiming isn't. Be careful." With that, the pirates broke into pre-arranged groups. Nico stepped out of the shadows and headed towards Jason, who was already drawing his golden sword. Thalia paired up with Hazel and they started to duel. Thalia didn't use a sword; she fought with a spear and twin knives. She was the superior of the two fighters— Hazel's large sword seemed impossible slow up against Thalia's duel hunting knives.

Percy strode over to me and I drew my knife and shield. He had been tutoring me over the last two days, and I was glad to say I was improving. I still wasn't as good as him, or even Hazel for that matter, but I was slowly making my way up the ladder. Fighting seemed to come almost natural to me.

"Do you feel like telling me yet?" was the first thing I asked when Percy came close. Since the fight with Atlas, I had been trying to find out all I could from his brother. Percy had been about as talkative as a sail on the topic, and none of the Demi-Gods would tell me when I asked. I was determined to find out.

"No," Percy replied, drawing Riptide with a clean _hiss_. He didn't even bother using his shield, just kept it slung over his back. He clearly wasn't in the mood for talking, so I made the first move and slashed with my knife.

I had quickly learned not to put all my weight behind my strikes, instead using only the muscles in my shoulder and wrist to deliver an attack. This mean that when Percy blocked, I was still in a perfect fighting position. I lunged forwards with my shield, intent to slam him backwards, but he took two steps back and let me stumble forwards, bringing Riptide around to the back of my neck. I adjusted the position of my shield and watched Riptide bounce off, enjoying the look of surprise on his face as we resumed the fight.

We continued to battle, staying in the designated circle on the ground as not to interrupt other groups. I was working my absolute hardest, bur Percy seemed to be completely at ease— handling Riptide with one hand, not even bothering to attack me back.

When I told him this, he just shrugged and kept blocking. This only angered me more and I attacked with renewed energy, slashing at him with my knife and growling in frustration as it bounced off his sword.

After ten minutes of this, I could barely stay on my feet anymore. I stumbled towards Percy, raising my knife as I went, and he struck. Riptide flashed forwards and before I knew it my knife was lying on the ground, five feet away. Percy gave me a light push and I stumbled backwards, tripping over my own feet and falling.

"No… fair," I panted, letting my shield drop and standing up uncertainly. I gained a bit of consolation in the fact that Percy was sweating as well, though not nearly as much as me.

"You tired yourself out," he said, retrieving my knife. "Never do that in a fight. If the enemy isn't attacking, then why should you?" I saw logic in this, though I hated to admit it. I realized my hair must be all messed up and my face would be red and coated with perspiration. I unconsciously tucked a strand of hair behind me ear and wiped my face, before freezing with realization. Why did I care about this? Definitely not Percy; I didn't care about what he thought about me. At least, that's what I told myself as we squared off to duel.

After ten minutes, Percy and Nico traded, so I was fighting with the son of Hades while Percy sparred with Jason. Nico was just as good as Percy, and his shorter sword became a blur of black as it swung through the air, each strike stopping centimeters away from my body.

It was frustrating, getting shoved into the dirt, but I tried to ignore it. Every day that passed I could find myself becoming a more and more skilled fighter, and I liked it. Maybe someday I would be as good as Percy. It was unlikely— not because I couldn't learn, but because Percy was more than just a swordsman. He was a natural warrior, born and bred for battle, and his eyes had seen enough of it to last a lifetime. Still, I could hope.

Nico swept my feet out from under me and I hit the ground, my breath leaving me with an _oof_. I was going to stand up, but my attention was drawn by the clash of swords from twenty feet away. Groaning in exhaustion, I forced myself to my feet and looked in the direction of the noise. Percy and Jason were fighting in their designated circle, both eyeing each other carefully.

Then Jason lunged and Percy blocked, and the battle was on. I felt my breath catch in my throat as they fought, dancing around their circle as their swords became blurs in the air. The ringing of steel echoed around the room as slowly the other groups stopped fighting and turned to watch the duel.

There was no obvious winner— several times I was sure it had come to an end, and then one of them would pull and death-defying trick and the battle was on again. It was nothing like the fight with Atlas had been. That battle had been a proper duel, with all weapons and full armor. This was a straight up swordfight, and they were both in it for glory.

It must have gone for twenty minutes, until finally Percy was able to disarm Jason and send his sword skidding away. In a final act of desperation, Jason lunged straight at Percy, but the captain was too quick. He danced to the side and slammed the flat of his blade into Jason's back, sending his cousin stumbling. Percy looked around and seemed to realize, for the first time, that everyone was watching him. He flashed a smile, which made my stomach flutter.

"Well, that's the disarming maneuver, everyone," he smiled, and several people chuckled.

"They were both showing off," Nico muttered to me as Percy dismissed the crowd and we headed over to Piper, Hazel and Thalia. I looked at him in surprise.

"They were?" I asked. The fight had looked completely legitimate.

"Of course they were," Nico scoffed. "Drawing it out, trying some stuff they would never do in an actual fight. They're both show offs, the pair of them."

I reviewed the fighting in my head, and I could almost see what he was saying. I hadn't been able to pick it up when the two were moving at lightning speed, but now I could see it; a spin that was just for show, an exaggerated strike here and there, a milliseconds wait before a thrust to make sure that the opponent would be able to block. They had been drawing out the fight, maybe to show off, maybe to give an example to the other kids.

I saw Percy packing up his armor and heading quickly for the door and rushed to block him. He strode out into the corridors of the ship and I hurried up until I was walking in stride with him. He looked up, saw me a furrowed his brow slightly. Obviously, he knew what was coming.

"I have a bone to pick with you," I said as we turned a couple of corners, headed for the upper deck. Percy looked over at me with a dubious look on his face.

"Join the line," he grumbled. "So do a hundred other people."

"Who is Atlas, really?" I asked, ignoring his last comment. Percy seemed to debate answering, before realizing that that would do no good. He clearly knew I would just keep asking him again and again until he relented and told me.

"My brother," he answered shortly. "We're both son's of Poseidon."

"Then why were you fighting?" Obviously, I could figure out they were bothers— they had called each other _brother _half a dozen times during the fight.

"Because Atlas and I…. we tend to disagree on matters," Percy told me, bounding up g the flight of stairs to the deck. I followed him and was surprised to see that, for the first time, land was in sight. Percy caught my gaze and his eyes settled on the hazy shape on the horizon. A smile spread on his face.

"Arcadia," Percy smiled fondly. "And past that, the Hills of Uthal. And then… the temples of Greece."

"Don't think you're avoiding the question," I told him. "Why don't you and Atlas get along?"

"There are… other powers," Percy started hesitantly. "Older and more powerful than the Greek gods, they enter your dreams, whispering promises of glory and power to you. They're called Titans. Atlas chose the path of the Titans, a path of destruction to all of Greece. I chose the path of the Greeks. I hold order; he enforces chaos. We don't exactly get along."

"Are there more like him?"

"No," Percy said, and I felt relief flood through me. I didn't like the idea of super-strong deities roaming the earth, influencing people to do their bidding. "Atlas's ship was the last of them, and now it's at the bottom of the ocean."

"Good," I smiled, and Percy returned it. I was about to let it go when another thought struck me. "Why did Atlas call you _Prince of Greece?" _Immediately, I knew I had made a mistake. Percy's gaze hardened and his hand twitched towards his sheathed weapon.

"Your in dangerous territory, Annabeth," he warned. "Choose your next words carefully." Even though I was fairly sure I couldn't be harmed by Percy, I didn't want to take my chances.

"Well… its just, I though you were a pirate," I ventured, trying to be diplomatic. "Not a prince. Plus, you don't wear a crown." There was a slithering _hiss_ of steel on leather and I saw Riptide was half unsheathed. Percy seemed to be praying, his eyes closed and his mouth forming unintelligible words.

"You will learn," he growled eventually. "That I do not date anyone aboard this ship, nor do I anyone off. There's a reason behind that, a reason that you're not ready to know." With that, he wheeled and marched off towards the front of the ship. I watched him as he swung up the mast towards the lookout.

_I don't date. _

Well, that would have to be changed, wouldn't it?

Linebreak

Diner that night was an excited occasion, as the pirates knew we were reaching their homeland. I sat on my normal table with the rest of them; eating the delicious food and listening to everything they could fill me in on Arcadia. Percy was acting distant now, his striking green eyes lost and sad. He was handsome, no doubt about it; as soon as I had gotten over hating him, I had realized just how good looking he really was. His hair swept effortlessly to the side as if he was permanently in the wind, and his square jaw and green eyes gave him the look of a troublemaker.

Now, though, those amazing eyes were distant and clouded; he was barely touching his food and he wasn't taking any part in the banter around the table. I wanted to talk to him, but the way he had acted on the deck made me sure that he wasn't in the mood for talking just yet. I tried to make sense of what he had said, but nothing was coming together; it just didn't make sense. Somehow, being the Prince of Greece had a direct connection to him being heartbroken, but I couldn't link it together.

"What's our plan, Perce?" Jason asked from beside him and Percy seemed to snap out of his trance, looking around and taking a moment to think.

"Go to Arcadia. Kill people. Give sword to Ares. Go to boat. Kill more people," Percy replied absent-mindedly, and Jason frowned, looking at Nico. They seemed to come to a sort of understanding.

"Right," Jason said, clearing his throat. "I'll help Malcolm with an _actual_ plan. Nico, see if you can summon something for Percy to kill to get him out of this mood."

"Mood?" Percy mumbled. "I'm not in a mood." But he wasn't even paying attention to the conversation. Jason shook his head.

"Yeah, sure," he said. "Guess I'm playing Captain for the day, then." He didn't look disappointed with the fact, standing up and heading for the upper decks to plan for our arrival in Arcadia. I was excited about seeing a new country; besides glimpses of Spain and France from the _Arthur_ and the occasional town we raided, I hadn't been anywhere but Britain in my life. I had learned a bit about Arcadia, though, through my schooling. When the king of England realized that the Greeks weren't completely destroyed, he sent an army to the far reaches of Macedonia, where they one again met the Greeks on a battleground. The Kings army advanced in the first few days of the battle, but they couldn't get passed the Greek lines to Athens. Now, Arcadia sits where the battle once happened, on a narrow strip of land between Macedonia and the Hills of Uthal.

I didn't know much about the country itself, only that it was ruled by King Charles and very isolated. Technically, it was part of British soil, but as long as they weren't planning a revolt or getting attacked by Greeks, we left them alone.

"What's wrong with Percy?" I whispered to Piper as we left the dining hall. She had promised to show me to the library, and now we wove in between the halls of the Argo. Piper pursed her lips; looking around as if checking Percy himself wasn't there.

"He got his heart broken," she answered eventually. I rolled my eyes inwardly; as if I couldn't figure that out for myself. "A long time ago…. Well, Percy wasn't originally supposed to be a pirate. Luke was. Percy was…." She trailed off, making it clear she didn't want to say any more. I, however, wasn't nearly satisfied.

"What happened to the girl?" I prompted, knowing full well I was going to get the same answer Percy had given me.

"He'll tell you that when he's ready," Piper grimaced, and I nodded. Seeing the disappointed look on my face, she searched for some information she could tell me. "Percy will be fine by the time we reach Arcadia," she assured me. "You just reminded him of things he doesn't like to think about. There's a reason we don't talk about it here, because he ends up like that."

"Right," I nodded. "Not a good thing." We walked the rest of the way in silence, until Piper pushed open a heavy wooden door and stood aside, gesturing for me to go in first. I stepped inside, and my breath caught in my throat.

It was… incredible.

When Piper had said _library, _I was expecting a small room with shelves packed with books and maybe a few scrolls. Instead, the room was almost as big as the dining hall, lit by strips of fire running crisscrossed across the roof. Floor-to-ceiling shelves covered every inch of wall space, each one of them containing thousands of scrolls packed into little cubbyholes. I read the categories: _Fighting, Strategies, Monster slaying, Monster keeping, History, Archimedes Principles… _there were so many I could barely focus on one particular one. Piper sat back and watched me, amused as I slowly stepped farther into the giant room. Ladders ran along the shelves, attached to rails so you could slide from shelf to shelf. I pulled out one of the scrolls under the History section and unraveled it. To my disappointment, it was in Ancient Greek, although I found I could make out blurry words: _Athena, the, King, Perseus… _ as soon as I focused on them, they blurred and went back to unintelligible figures and forms that made no sense to me.

"This is amazing," I breathed, backing up again to take it all in. Piper smirked at me, probably knowing full well how stupefied I was by their collection.

"Malcolm insisted that we needed a few books," she grinned. "All we had was a tiny library, and he called Luke _illiterate_. So Luke raided the Royal library of England, and then used stolen booty to ay scribes to transfer the writing into Ancient Greek. Then we returned to lot."

I had to chuckle at this; the pirates certainly didn't believe in doing things by halves. I yawned and realized how tired I was— the long days of training and early wake-ups, plus the life of trying to adjust to this new life, was catching up on me.

"Go to sleep," Piper smiled, noticing the gesture. "You can take a couple of scrolls with you, and polish your armor when you get to your room." She smiled, and for a second I saw past the innocent girl she was normally; there was a warrior there. "Tomorrow we arrive in Arcadia."

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**What did you guys think? Next chapter might be from Percy's POV. What do you guys think? **

**And I'm changing my updating schedule— it's just too much, three stories every week. I can barely manage it, and my school grades are dropping. So now I'm doing every other week. Sorry, guys. But it means the chapters will be longer.**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hallo, people of the internet. You really don't know how lucky you are to have this chapter up today. Long story short, my little sister spilled water on my laptop and it automatically shut down. We left it on the hot air vent overnight and Hermes must have listened to my prayers, because it started this morning with all it's documents working. Hooray!**

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Jason hit the sand with a _thump_, sending up a spray of water as he stopped himself with the winds just inches off the ground. It was a power he had, just like I could control the water at my will. Most demi-gods had powers or inherited abilities, though some were more obvious than others. For example, Nico could shadow-travel while Michael Yew was just really good with a bow.

Jason quickly scanned left and right, checking to see if there was any immediate danger. He clearly saw none, for he gave the positive symbol, and I motioned for Leo to drop the ladder. The Argo was over fifty feet tall; if anyone else but Jason had tried that leap they would have landed with broken legs.

I was first down the ladder, making sure I had everything I would need for our trip through Arcadia: sword, shield, a spear, a small bag of provisions and a crossbow. The crossbows were new— they had been aboard Atlas's ship, and with a little help from Annabeth we had quickly gotten used to them. They were relatively quick to reload, although not as fast as a bow and arrow, nor were they quite as accurate. But since I couldn't shoot a bow and arrow to save my life, I was using the crossbow with decent results.

I dropped down next to Jason, Annabeth right behind me, and signaled up onto the deck to Leo, who waved back before racing towards the other side of the ship. Although Arcadia wasn't very big, it would still be a few days' hike, no doubt with several enemies to face, and we needed horses. Or in my case, Pegasus. Or in Jason's case, storm spirits.

A large section of the deck dropped with a loud crash, and I heard skittering hooves as the horses reacted to the loud sound. More people dropped onto the ground, forming a protective ring around the ship as I walked into the stables. As I went in, I smiled at the way my pirates were all armed and ready to defend.

This wasn't the life I had been destined for. But this was the life I had chosen, and I loved it.

It was weird to think that, had things not changed, had mistakes not been made, I wouldn't be here right now. I would be in Ancient Greece, sitting on a throne somewhere. My armor would instead be fine clothes, and my helmet and sword would be replaced by a crown and noble staff.

I would be King of Greece. And sitting on the throne next to me…

Red lights flashed in my mind. _Don't go there. Keep moving. Don't think about it._ I shook my head, breaking the illusion and heading deeper into the stables. The light wasn't great, but I had been down here a million times and I knew the lay out just as well as I knew the rest of the ship.

I stopped outside one cell and looked in to see a slumbering black Pegasus curled on the floor, his wings tucked around his body and his chest rising with every massive breath. My face broke into a massive grin.

"Hey, Nico," I called. "Pass me that bucket over there." Nico did it without question, grabbing the large pail of water and handing it to me. I silently opened the door, stepped forwards and doused the Pegasus in freezing cold water.

_Whoa! _He reared, spreading his wings and kicking his front hooves forwards. It would have been a very impressive sight, had I not helped teach him how to do it. _Warrior alert! Attack! _He kept yelling in my head until he realized it was me. If horses could glare, this one sure was.

_Very funny, boss, _he snapped, folding in his wings and shaking his mane indignantly. Because my dad was Poseidon, I could talk to horses at will. Sometimes it was great. Other times they just wouldn't shut up.

"Nice to see you too, Blackjack," I smiled at him. "Saddle up. We're in Arcadia."

_Oh, great, _he grumbled in my mind. _I get to play warhorse this week with my crazy sla— er, rider. _Ignoring the last comment, I grabbed his saddle and slid it onto his back. My hands moved deftly, tightening the girth and slipping the bridle over his nuzzle. Even though I would never say it to his face— his ego was big enough already— Blackjack was a beautiful horse. He was, as his name suggested, pure black, with a twenty foot wingspan and clean feathers to match his mane. He was also trained for battle, even though he didn't see it much; he was a gift from my dad, and I liked to keep him safe whenever I could. But on the rare occasion I did use him for battle, he knew what to do.

Once I was done tacking him up, I pushed the door to his stable wide opened and walked out, knowing full well that he would follow behind me. We stepped out onto the beach and I put my shield, two spears and crossbow on special holders built into his saddle. I held onto Riptide.

A group of twenty or so pirates had dropped down beside me, a mixture of excitement and nerves on their face. Annabeth was one of them and I made my way over to her. I wanted her with me on the trip to the temple of Ares; it would be good for her to see what happened there, and it would also be a good chance for her to fine-tune her fighting abilities.

I still wasn't completely sure why I had saved her. Sure, she was obviously a daughter of Athena— no one else had grey eyes quite like those— but other than that… I just felt drawn to her. Maybe it was the grey eyes, maybe it was the princess curls.

I chuckled with no humor at the last statement. Princess curls? With my past, it was ironic that, since _then_, the one girl I had even thought of as pretty had princess curls. Shaking my head, I pushed passed the Stoll brothers and stood next to her.

"Welcome to Arcadia," I smiled. She had slight bags under her eyes but still managed to look good, her golden hair glinting in the sunlight.

"I don't see anyone," she said, confused. She was scanning the beach as if expecting to see someone around. I smirked.

"Get used to it," I told her. "The thing about Arcadia is King Arthur really doesn't _want _it. He needs it, for his pride and to keep check on us, but only a few thousand people live here. The only place you'll find anything past small villages is at the main castle, where Charles lives." I tried to keep the contempt out of my voice as I spoke about Arcadia. It was a stupid country, really, full of a greedy King and Knights on every main road throughout the whole country, hoping to pick up a down payment in order for them to let you through. In reality, the knights were the only reason I liked this place; they were fun to fight.

Jason trotted up beside me, breaking my train of thought. He was aboard tempest, a captured wind spirit that flickered with lightning and could, coincidentally, fly. Blackjack and the storm spirit regarded each other with a sort of mutual respect as Jason came closer.

He dropped onto the ground when he drew beside me, a show of respect I still wasn't used to. It felt weird to be Captain— I had always relied on Luke to make the big decisions. I had just followed orders, not given them. Still, I had been prepared for this time to come; Luke had told me time and time again that some day he would be killed in battle and the responsibility would be on my shoulders.

"Ready to mobilize," Jason told me, and I looked around. Sure enough, all of the Greeks were aboard horses, and there were two extra stallions tied to equipment wagons. I nodded to him and swung aboard Blackjack, resting comfortably on the saddle and making sure Riptide was easily within reach.

"Um, Percy?" Annabeth questioned from beside me. "Are you gonna get me a horse or what?" I could have snapped at her, but the arrival in Arcadia had lifted my spirits considerably, especially taking into account how I had been the last couple of days.

"No," I answered. "Go into the stables and grab a horse, then. I presume you know how to put a saddle on?" she nodded, and I continued. "Well then, go along." Looking annoyed, she jogged towards the stables and I smiled to myself.

Ten minutes later we were off, riding in a loose formation down the dirt path we had followed every year for as long as I could remember. We kept the horses at a leisurely walk as to not tire them too quickly. We never knew when a quick escape from the country would be necessary; even though the government itself was weak, King Charles had a formidable army and our group of twenty wouldn't be able to stand up against it.

I was planning to stop halfway through the day to eat lunch, but only a couple of hours into our ride I saw, to my dismay, a river cutting through the plain ahead. There was a single bridge crossing the river, and I could just make out a shining figure on horseback standing halfway across the bridge.

"Who's that?" Annabeth asked from next to me, standing up in her stirrups to get a better view. I waited until she had sat back down to answer.

"Salvager," I spat. "They work for King Charles, picking from merchants and peasants who want to cross bridges. Half of the money they earn is forced to be paid as tax; the other half they get to keep."

"So are we going to pay them?" Annabeth wondered, surprised. I chuckled.

"Not a hope," I smiled, nudging Blackjack in the side. He broke into a trot, mumbling about his sore legs as he did. The rest of the horses followed in suite, Jason pulling up beside me.

"Mine, I think," he told me, examining the rapidly growing figure. I now could see that this wasn't a formidable opponent at all; he sat uncomfortably on his horse, his shield held to high and his lance unbalanced. I fought the urge to laugh at him as he clumsily flipped open his visor and attempted to glare at us. Jason easily dismounted tempest, shrugging off his spears as he went.

"I don't want my horse to get hurt," he sneered contemptuously, unsheathing his golden sword. I knew that he could just summon a bit of lightning and kill the man right now, but he wouldn't; this was for entertainment as much as it was for actual business.

"Sir!" The knight screeched in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. I heard snickers from behind me ad suppressed my own smile, because I felt it was un-captain-like. "You need to pay a fee to pass, sirs!"

"What's your name, Knight?" Jason called from the ground, squinting up at the figure on horseback. The knight hesitated, before answering:

"Sir Cobblewealth of the Arcadian Army, sirs! You will pay a fee to the noble King Charles, sirs!" Jason fought down a grin as he faced off Cobblewealth, his sword gripped loosely in his hand.

"Well then, Sir Cobblewealth," Jason yelled, somehow containing his laughter. "I challenge you to one-on-one combat, in return for a safe passage across the bridge you so nobly guard!" It was clear he was teasing, but Cobblewealth couldn't hear the sarcasm in his voice. He sat up straighter and looked around proudly.

"If you wish to die fighting a noble Knight, sir, then so be it," he announced briefly, a hint of uncertainty flickering across his face. "What will happen once I kill you?" Jason glanced back at me, and I nodded. We had done this drill lots of times, and we knew exactly what the knights wanted to hear.

"My companions will pay twice the normal fee per person!" Jason answered, and Cobblewealth's face lit up. If there had been any doubt before, there was absolutely none now at the prospect of double the normal fees— easy, tax free money.

"So be it!" he screeched, lowering his visor. Jason turned to me, grinning in anticipation, and tossed his sword. Surprised at the maneuver, I fumbled with the blade and it almost impaled Blackjack, who skittered nervously.

_Whoa, boss. Try not to horse-kebab me, would ya? _

"Sorry," I muttered, watching Jason with interest. I knew he was a great fighter, but what can one do with only a shield, up against a fully armored knight on horseback?

A lot, apparently.

Cobblewealth charged across the space between them, bouncing in his saddle like a sack of potatoes. Jason drew his round shield and fixed his stance, not bracing one foot back and meeting the charge like I expected him too. Instead, he stood with the weight on his right foot, shield gripped easily in one arm. Cobblewealth thundered closer and I sat up a bit in my saddle, anticipating what Jason was going to do.

Cobblewealth drew within range and stabbed with his lance, probably aimed at Jason's chest but instead traveling closer to his stomach. Effortlessly, Jason dodged to the side, evading the lance completely and rushing forwards to meet the galloping horse from the side. He slammed into its flank with his shield with enough force the send the animal skidding to the side, rearing nervously. Cobblewealth, off balance from his attack and completely unsuspecting, tumbled right out of the saddle and hit the ground hard. I heard the Stoll's laughing from behind me as he climbed slowly and clumsily to his feet, armor clanking, and drew his sword with great difficulty.

_Gah, _I _could probably fight this dude, _Blackjack nickered as Jason adjusted his shield so he was holding it in two hands and waited for the knight to advance. He did, charging with a great battle cry and swinging his sword in a massive arc that Jason easily dodged. True to his character, Cobblewealth got his sword stuck in the ground with the weight of his swing and struggled to tug it free.

Jason kicked him in the chest, sending the man flying back, and yanked Cobblewealth's sword out of the ground with ease. He advanced, stolen sword ready to strike.

"Hold!" I ordered, trying my best to make my voice sound loud and commanding. Jason stopped, surprised, and turned back to me, letting the sword drop to his side.

"What's up, Perce?" he asked, absent-mindedly swinging the weapon. I wasn't quite sure what had made me give the order not to execute the pathetic excuse of a warrior who was lying cowering at Jason's feet. It might have had something to do with the look of horror on Annabeth's face, although I tried to convince myself it didn't.

"Let him live," I told Jason. "He can't do any more harm, can he?"

"He couldn't do any harm in the first place," Jason muttered, sticking the sword blade-down in the dirt and sending one last look Cobblewealth, before smoothly remounting Tempest and retrieving his sword from the ground where I had dropped it.

"That was impressive," I told him later when we were back to our steady walk across the plains. Jason looked over at me, smiling.

"Thank you," he replied. Friction had been high between us these last few days, mainly because of my new rank. Jason had always been slightly jealous about the fact that, despite my late reinstatement to the _Argo, _I was given the first mate position while he was Lieutenant. I guess, technically, it made sense because at the time I had been Prince, but I still felt sort of guilty about it. Nonetheless, despite our feuds, Jason and I were almost brothers and when it came down to it, we always had each others backs.

We stopped for lunch quickly and then re-mounted and continued our journey. We faced two more pillagers, one Nico dealt with and the other Michael Yew put an arrow through before I could say otherwise. I glared at him as we passed the fallen warrior.

"What?" He asked innocently, retrieving his arrow and smiling innocently. He knew what, of course: that was no way for a warrior to go out, even a pathetic one like the knights we faced today. They deserved to be slain by sword or spear, not shot through the eye before they even knew what had happened.

Finally, we set camp for the night. I let the Stoll's and Michael take care of cooking diner while I went with Annabeth, Jason, Nico and Frank to practice with the crossbows. They were simple weapons, shaped like a miniature ballista with a few modifications. They could be held with one hand, braced against the shoulder, and to fire all you had to do was pull a small trigger. To reload, there was a lever that you pulled back, tightening the string and slotting a new arrow into position. They weren't quite as fast as the bow and arrow, but packed more punch and I could actually aim with them.

It had been Clarisse who had originally found them on Atlas's ship, at first laughing at them because they were a long-range weapon, something she thought cowardly. However, thinking maybe they could be stripped of materials, she brought half a dozen of them back on to the ship. Annabeth was able to figure them out, and now they were my long-range weapon of choice.

We fired at trees, trying to pick off individual branches. Annabeth had decent aim with it, although she claimed she could shoot better with a rifle.

"No rifles," I told her as soon as she had said this. She pouted adorably at this but eventually agreed.

"I won't do any good, anyways," she said, bringing her crossbow up and taking a shot. It missed the tree entirely, but before I could point that out she had reloaded and fired again, this time hitting dead center of the trunk. I followed in suit, firing off three shots and watching in satisfaction as they thudded into the trunk of the tree. I wouldn't use the bow often— I preferred to fight up close, and if I needed distance I always had my spear— but it was good to have some sort of rapid-fire weapon on me.

The next day we were off again, trudging along the trail while the sun beat down on us. There was little communication between the group as we fought the heat, drinking more than our share of water and giving an even larger amount to the horses. I had shed my armor long ago and now only had Riptide.

Up ahead, I could make out another, larger bridge, this one guarded by a group of five guards. Michael instinctively brought his bow up, but I signaled for him to stand down.

"Come on," he begged. "I could nail all of them in one shot, ten Drachma says."

"No," I repeated firmly. "Jason and I will deal with this." I signaled for him to dismount and he did, dropping to the ground and letting Tempest's reins dangle freely. I did the same.

"I want to come," Annabeth said from her mount. I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off: "Come on, what's the worst that could happen? They're not even armed with guns."

I looked at Jason, who shrugged. "Your call."

"Fine," I muttered, pulling my shield off of Blackjack. I wouldn't bother with armor for five English guards, armed or not. Annabeth also grabbed her shield and Jason hitched a spear off his saddle. Together, we set off across the ground to where the guards were scrambling onto horses to meet us. One of them pulled a long, straight object from inside of the hut.

"Oh," Annabeth faltered. "Guess they do have guns." I shook my head and drew my shield. I had no doubt that the metal, crafted by Beckendorf and dipped in the river Styx, would stand against a bullet. The thing that worried me was Jason didn't have a shield, and even he would have trouble deflecting a bullet of his sword.

"Give me a second," Jason said, lifting his spear and testing its weight. He was prepared to throw it, but I stopped him.

"We may be able to get across here without bloodshed," I told him firmly. There was a possibility that the guards would be scared by our greater numbers or Greek weapons and let us through. It was a slim chance, granted, but I was trying to stop the possibility that a stray bullet would graze someone and kill him or her.

We marched closer, me at the lead, partly because I was Captain and partly because I had the shield. The guards sent one man forwards on a large stallion bred for war. I watched him clank closer, assessing him as he went. He was a warrior at least; he rode with confidence and held his lance with ease. Not a huge threat, no, but someone that we could watch out for if anything.

The knight dismounted smoothly, stuck his lance in the ground and strode over to us, flipping up his helmet as he went. His face was sharp, with handsome features and a confident look. Immediately, it became clear that we weren't going to get through without a fight.

Jason saw this as well, looking back a hundred and fifty meters to our group and gave the _ready _signal. I was fairly confident that we could take these soldiers, but I wanted to leave no room for doubt.

"Captain Perseus Jackson of the _Argo," _I announced as we neared each other. "You will order your men to stand down or face a sure death." I held my threatening glare, but the knight just scoffed at me and drew his sword. It wasn't one of the pathetic sticks that privateers used. It was actually a weapon, about as long as Riptide but not as thick.

"Do you know where you are?" The knight asked lazily. "This is British land, and we're Knights of Arcadia. You're halfway to the castle of King Charles."

"I know that," I replied tightly. "We're not going to the castle, though. If you would just let us pass…" and then his sword was level with my throat. Annabeth surged forwards but Jason held her back, knowing full well that I would be dead before either of them could do anything.

"I don't think so," the knight smiled grimly. "I'll enjoy killing a Greek captain, I think."

"Lower the weapon, son," I growled, even though he was five years older than me at least. "You don't know who you're talking to."

"Please do share."

"The Prince of Greece," I snarled, knocking his sword away from my throat and swinging Riptide upwards. The knight brought his shield up, intent on blocking the swing. I could already see his muscles tense for the strike that would come afterwards.

There are certain things people don't understand about my sword. My sword isn't just a strip of metal that has been shaped and sharpened. My sword is weighted at the top. My sword is molded so perfectly into my hand it feels like a part of my body. My sword was made in the forges of a Hephaestus. My sword was crafted by the god himself. My sword has been dipped in the river Styx. My sword has been blessed by the Olympic council. My sword isn't a sword; my sword is a weapon of destruction.

Riptide cut clean through the shield. Riptide cut clean through the arm holding the shield, traveling through the metal armor like putty. The metal helmet was cleaved in half as if it didn't exist, and the Riptide was sticking out of the knights skull.

The guards at the other side saw this, and they weren't happy. The one with the gun aimed, but he was too slow. I was already bolting towards them as they scrambled for weapons; two running back into the hut and two standing there to face me. One fired a shot, headed straight for my chest.

You know how I said it was hard to deflect a bullet off your sword? I didn't have time to bring my shield around and duck behind it, but Riptide seemed to move on its own accord, coming up and deflecting the bullet high. I was concerned it had dented, but didn't have time to worry about that now. The man was reloading his gun, but I knew he would be too slow; he would never have time to loose a second shot before I was there. The other guard drew his sword and turned to face me, holding the weapon in two hands.

Right before I reached him I jumped off to the side, driving my sword down into his neck. I withdrew it as I landed, spun around and cleaved the second guard clean in half before he could register his partner was dead.

I heard the click of a gun being cocked behind me and froze. Slowly, keeping Riptide lowered at my side, I turned to face the other two guards, both who were aiming guns at me. I was fast, but not fast enough to dodge two bullets at the same time. Still, I had to try; the alternative was go down without a fight, something no Greek wanted to do. I tensed, ready to lunge at the guards, but a piercing whistle broke the air.

Jason's spear skimmed the throat of the first guard and continued to the second, embedding itself in the mans chest. He staggered, coughing blood, and I lunged with Riptide. He crumpled.

Jason and Annabeth were jogging towards me, the rest of the group following close behind with the horses. I examined Riptide, pleased to see no dents or even scratches on my swords surface. Annabeth was the first to reach me, looking at me with wide eyes.

"You deflected a bullet of your sword."

"Not a clue in Hades how I did it," I said, sheathing my sword as Jason arrived and retrieved his spear. "Nice throw."

"Thank you," He smiled. "Figured you could use a little help there." I did, but I wasn't going to admit it.

"I had it all under control," I told him, and he just laughed at me. I was glad to see the resentment and challenge gone from his eyes when he looked at me; I didn't like seeing it.

The rest of the group pulled up, led by Nico. Blackjack trotted up to me, swinging his head irritably. _You know, if you're going to make me play war horse, could you at least let me have fun? I'm not a pack pony, boss._

"I protecting you," I smirked, patting him on the neck. He snorted but let me climb onto his back. I sheathed Riptide and my shield and was about to say order we start moving forward when Michael Yew spotted something inside the guard hut.

"Hey!" He yelled, drawing his bow. "_Hey!" _I pulled sharply on Blackjack's reins and he reared, spinning around sharply so I was facing the hut. Through the open window, I could see a young boy, no more than thirteen, hurriedly scribbling on a piece of paper. Michael let an arrow fly, but before he could make contact the boy disappeared. I signaled to Jason, who quickly dismounted and started forwards with his sword in his hand. There was a tense moment of silence before the door burst open and the boy steamed out, screaming and wielding and chair as a weapon. Before Jason could even get close to the kid, Michael had two arrows sticking out of his chest. The boy stumbled back and Thalia finished the job with an arrow through his eyes. I frowned at the boy, wondering why he had done something stupid like that.

"It was a distraction," Annabeth whispered from beside me, realization dawning in her beautiful grey eyes. "He was trying to draw our attention from something."

"What?" I asked, reaching for Riptide. Before Annabeth could answer, Thalia saw something on the horizon and brought her bow around, loading an arrow as she did so. Before I could even register what was happening, she let it fly, just a streak of silver in the sky. My eyes followed the arrow as it sailed inches away from her target, a small, flapping shape about two hundred yards away. I made the connection and swore violently.

"Courier pigeon!" I yelled, standing up on my saddles as every archer in the group unloaded at the target, but it was too late. The pigeon was far out of range by now. "He's heading to the castle," I said grimly. "The Arcadians know we're here."

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	8. Chapter 8

**A right-on-time, action-packed, secret-revealing chapter from yours truly, to thank all of you who gave me 34(!) awesome reviews on the previous chapter. Think we can keep it up and get 30 on this one? Over a hundred people follow this story, so it shouldn't be that hard. Come on!**

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"Yah!" I yelled, bringing down my heels on Blackjacks' flank. He grumbled but sped up, hooves thudding loudly against the dirt ground as we raced across the open plain. It had been two days since the pigeon had flown away with the message of our whereabouts, and I had no doubt that the army was mobilizing now.

"Percy!" Annabeth said from next to me, using her knife to point at the sky where a large, dark shape was visible on the horizon. I spurred Blackjack again and he spread his wings, flapping once and taking off smoothly. In a minute I had met up with the dark shape.

"Well?" I asked Jason, rising and falling fifteen feet or so with every massive flap of Blackjack's wings. Aboard tempest, he hovered still with a grim expression on his face.

"Bad," he answered. I feared as much; when I had sent Jason to the mission yesterday to scout out the army, I knew he wouldn't be returning with good news. Still, it was worrying to hear him deliver it. "Two hundred warriors at least, half of them on horses. Guns and knights all around, all coming our way."

"Do we have time to complete the offering?" I asked urgently. Giving this sword to Ares was absolutely essential, and if we backed out now the war god would never forgive us.

"Barely," Jason said. "And hovering here isn't helping us. Lets go!" He took Tempest into a steep dive towards the still-galloping group. Nico was at the lead, urging his deadly black horse faster. I signaled Blackjack and he dove after Jason, wings tucked right into his side. It was an exhilarating feeling, the wind roaring by my ears and the ground growing larger with every second.

Blackjack landed with barely a bump and was immediately galloping again, quickly pulling ahead to the front of our group. _Now _this _is fun_ he nickered as we sped through the plains.

"Three O'clock!" Michael yelled, drawing and sighting on his bow in a second. He let the arrow fly and it arced through the air, streaking across the sky and slamming into his target with deadly accuracy. The leader of the small group of knights that was trailing on us dropped to the ground, but the rest of the group kept running.

"Jason and Nico, with me!" I yelled. "Beckendorf, keep going and we'll catch up." Without waiting for a reply, I wheeled my horse around and charged Blackjack at the gaining group of knights, drawing my shield as I went. I could hear the thud of hoof beats from behind me that said Jason and Nico were following as well. I less than a minute we were bearing down on the other group. I did a quick count and realized they had at least three times our numbers, all of them armored and bristling with weapons. From beside me, Jason scoffed.

"Cake," he muttered, kicking Tempest and bolting ahead like the wind. One of the Knights brought up a lance and threw it, but Jason flicked it aside contemptuously and brought his own spear up, hurling it at the lead knight.

I didn't wait to see if it connected; I was already drawing Riptide. With a blood-curdling scream, I crashed into the nearest opponent and slashed Riptide out in a lethal arc. The man was dead before he could register the fact, but I was already moving, cutting down two more knights from their mounts. Someone thrust a spear at me, which I quickly parried before jabbing in return.

I reached the end of the group and pulled tightly on Blackjack's reins. He reared on to his back legs and spun on a dime until we were facing the attackers again. I wasn't needed, though. With a lighting quick flick of his wrist Nico brought the last attacker to the ground and reined in his horse. Jason did the same with Tempest and we stood there, smiling at each other. This was what we were born for, what we had been _bred _for.

"There'll be more," Jason said as we started back towards the group. "There will definitely be more, especially if they think we're headed for the castle." I nodded grimly, knowing it was true but not wanting it to be. The Arcadians had a formidable army when it came down to it, not in terms of training but when it came to size. Our group of twenty would be crushed.

"Our fate is in the hands of the gods," I said grimly, holding Riptide and speaking like I felt a captain should. "If they bless us, we shall succeed. If not…" I shrugged. "Pray to Hades, friends." And then I smiled. "Let's hope everyone remembered to burn an offering last night."

We slept for less than five hours that night before I woke everyone and told them to saddle up. Then we were racing across the countryside again, pushing our horses to the absolute limit. Unfortunately for me, being the son of Poseidon I got to listen to all their grumbling and groaning about sore hooves and burning lungs. Still we pressed on, traveling on the main road to Castle Arcadia before switching north ten miles away. I had a strong feeling that if we could just make it to the Hills of Uthal, it would delay the Arcadians long enough for us to complete the offering to Ares. Then, hopefully we could skirt west to Greece and back to the Argo, leaving Arcadia without a fight.

Of course, I knew that wouldn't happen. Chances are that the Arcadians would pursue us to the temple of Ares, Hills of Uthal or no Hills of Uthal. There we would be forced to make a stand against the Arcadians, and I wasn't sure if we could hold. As Captain though, it was my responsibility to put on a positive face for the crew. If I started saying it was impossible to win, they would believe it and then the fight would truly be over.

The sun was just barely touching the horizon when the first of the Hills loomed in the distance. A raged cheer went up from our group, but it was quickly dimmed when another shape was recognizable, coming from the east and heading to cut us off. An army, seven hundred strong and all mounted, were racing on an interception course. I could feel a stir of unsettlement in the group, hands going to weapons and arrows notching on bows. I could see Jason draw a spear and grip it tightly, urging Tempest to go a little bit faster.

"We can make it," Annabeth murmured from next to me, her knife clenched tightly. "It'll be close, but we can definitely make it to the hills."

"You sure about that?" I asked, studying the army with a quizzical eye. They had obviously seen us because the lead riders were now pulling ahead, yelling battle cries and drawing weapons as they rode to intercept us. They were met with a hail of arrows from our archers, Michael and Will and Thalia and Lee, all firing off a rapid succession of six shots that hit with lethal accuracy. Horses hit the ground, skidding to a stop as their lifeless riders tumbled to the ground, and the men behind them found their mounts rearing and tripping in panic.

I saw our window of opportunity and raised Riptide, standing up in my stirrups and kicking Blackjack to run faster. "_For Greece!" _ I yelled, and nineteen other throats took up the call as we bolted ahead, the rhythmic drumming of hooves the only sound I heard. Apollo's kids and Thalia fired arrow after arrow into the oncoming Arcadians, sending riders tumbling to the ground. They gradually slowed down while we pressed on, speeding across the plain and headed for the hills. I leaned low over the saddle and urged Blackjack ahead.

_Calm down, boss! _He grumbled. _I'm only one horse, you know. _I saw the army on our side draw closer, saw them lower their guns and fire. The ear-splitting _crack_ of rifles filled the air, but all the bullets missed.

And then we were across the invisible barrier and into the hills, continuing our gallop until the army was far behind us. Then I held up a hand and signaled for us to slow down and finally stop, the horses breathing heavily. Connor Stoll was grinning wildly.

"That was brilliant!" He said, dismounting and removing his horses saddle. The rest of us followed his lead, and we decided to stay there for the night with a sort of anonymous clarity. It had been an exhausting day.

"Be free, boy," I told Blackjack, letting go of the reins and unclipping his halter. He whinnied wordlessly and set off across the plans as I pitched my tent. Around me, other pirates were doing the same, and in no time we had a fire going and diner cooking. I knew that the Arcadians would be after us eventually, but they had no knowledge of these Hills and it would take them long enough to gather courage and actually follow us into the Hills.

We set out guards at night, armed with a crossbow and whatever weapon they preferred. I was shaken awake by Annabeth, who told me it was my shift. Groggily, I rolled over, grabbed Riptide and dressed quickly, before heading out and joining her about ten meters away from the main camp.

"You can go in now," I told her, sitting down and loading my crossbow. Most captains wouldn't bother taking watch, but I had learned a long time ago that the best way to lead was to treat your troops as equals. Encouragement and kindness would go a lot further than brutal words and abuse.

"I know," she replied, but she made no movement to leave. I had an idea what was coming, but I didn't have to like it. "I want to ask you a few questions."

"Of course you do," I sighed, adjusting my position and leaning against a fallen log. My eyes never stopped scanning the horizon, skipping over an area and then crossing back over it to see if anyone was there. The hardest part of searching was making yourself think that you would see something on the horizon. If you expected to see nothing, then you would see nothing, regardless if there was something to see or not.

"Why aren't you depressed about the death of your captain?" Annabeth started, and I stopped my roaming to glance at her, raising an eyebrow.

"In English religion, what happens when someone dies?" I replied, and she looked confused.

"Well, they go to heaven," she told me.

"And once you die, you'll go to heaven as well, correct?" I asked, and she nodded. "So therefore, why should you be sad about someone's death when you're only going to see them again?"

Realization dawned on her face as she grasped what I was saying. "Still," she protested. "Death isn't the same… not really…"

"It is to us," I told her, and she left it at that. It was true that Luke's death was hard for us, and it hurt our fighting ability, but Luke had died fighting the British. That meant he was immediately granted entrance to Elysium, where he would no doubt be waiting for us. "Besides," I added as an afterthought. "Luke knew his destiny. He knew what would happen when…"

"When what?" She protested, and I knew I had made a mistake. I met her eyes again and could tell that there was no way she was going to back down from this.

"When he let me onto the ship," I completed. "There was a prophecy…" I trailed off once again, and Annabeth got the clue. Instead of pressing, she pulled out

"What about my knife?" I groaned inwardly. "Thalia said that it had a bad history, and I want to know what that history is."

"It was a gift," I told her reluctantly. "For the Oracle of Delphi, from a young girl whom he saved. This dagger was given to Luke after he helped the Oracle."

"How did he help her?" Annabeth asked, leaning forwards.

"Him," I corrected. "That was the whole problem, you see. The Oracle was always meant to be a girl, a young maiden who possessed a clear sight. But, at the time, there were no mortal women available to host the spirit."

"None of them could see clearly?" Annabeth questioned, clearly surprised. My jaw tightened.

"I didn't say that. I said there was no one available." My gaze probably warned her that this wasn't a subject to dwell on. "So we used a clear-sighted male for the job, thinking he would do. Greece needs an Oracle, after all."

"What happened?"

"It went horribly wrong." I tried to clear my head of the images of that day, the steaming green smoke, the screams, the knowledge that the only way to save the world was to sacrifice the person I loved most. "The spirit rejected the host in a much more violent fashion than ever before. We had to find a new host, and we had to find one fast. Luckily, we had a girl…." I stopped there. "Luke took the knife from the man and helped him end his misery. End of story."

"Who was the girl?" Annabeth asked, and I seethed. These were subjects that I tried to avoid as much as possible. Even _Luke _hadn't dared to talk about them much.

"A women I loved very dearly," I growled. "The Princess of Greece, who went by the name of Rachel Elizabeth Dare." With that, I stabbed Riptide violently into the ground and focused purposely on the horizon, totally ignoring her. "You can go to bed now."

The steel in my voice told her this was no place for argument. She hastily left, casting a dubious glance at her knife as she did. I stayed out there all night, not bothering to awake Jason for his shift.

If the Arcadians caught up to us, gods help them.

It happened a couple of hours before dawn. An advance party, no more than a dozen men, appeared over the nearest hill. I stood where I was, not moving, my eyes sizing them up. They were on horseback, armed with shields and spears and dressed in full armor. The ones at the back of the group kept shooting fugitive glances over their shoulders, as if watching for monsters to appear.

I should have awoken the others to deal with the attack, but I was still seething with anger. At whom, I wasn't quite sure. My father? The Fates? The Oracle Of Delphi? Annabeth? All of them had good reasons to be furious at, and just thinking about them brought my blood to a boiling point. Instead of waking the others, I set out across the ground, hitching Riptide as I went. I didn't bother to grab other weapons; the sword would be all I needed.

They saw me coming when I was a hundred meters away, ghosting through the long shadows created by the early grey light. I could hear weapons clanking and horses snorting as they quickly moved into a hammerhead formation, ready to stand up to an attack.

It took them a minute to realize I was only one man, armed with only a sword. Once they realized this, they relaxed a bit, moving in to a looser formation. One rider dethatched himself from the front of the group and galloped towards me, much to the pleasure of the other riders. I smiled maliciously as the man drew closer, bringing his lance around to drive into my chest. He never got the chance.

Riptide flashed in two quick strokes and his lance fell apart, clattering on to the soft ground as he rode past me. I grabbed his leg as he went and pulled, hard, sending the man careening off his horse and to the ground. Before he had a chance to recover, I drove Riptide through his heart.

Now the other men were getting uneasy. Seeing as how a mounted charge had been ineffective, they dismounted their horses and started cautiously towards me, weapons drawn. I let them gain a little ground, before spinning Riptide, taking a huge breath of air and charging, yelling as I went. There was a moment of terror amongst the group as I bore down on them, and they moved into a tight formation, shield up to block me.

I hit the front of the formation, swinging Riptide in a lethal arc. Immediately, the tight arrow they had formed broke, and I steamed through their ranks, cutting and slashing. One soldier stepped up to challenge me and I swung low, cutting his leg clean through and sending him sailing. I slammed him down with my elbow and continued on, blocking a sword strike and spinning low to the ground. I came up with a massive slash that went from the mans waist to his neck, killing him in an instant.

I barely registered the fight, but before I knew it eleven bodies were dead around me. Riptide was covered in blood and so was I, splatters of dark red covering my robes. I would have to change, but before I did I made sure that the message was clear to the rest of the Arcadians. I took the only unbroken lance and forced it into the ground, twisting the shaft until the weapon stood point-up in the dirt. Then I set to work, searching through the ranks of men until I found the one with a Captains insignia on his sleeve.

When I left, his head was stuck on the lance, lifeless eyes a clear warning to any man— or monster— who may pass.

Perseus Jackson was not in a good mood.

_Annabeth_

"You did _what? _ I asked, horrified. Percy held my glare as he sharpened Riptide and cleaned the weapon, rinsing it in a flask of what he called 'pure water.'

"I impaled the captains head on his lance," Percy told me as we cantered along the trail. "A clear warning to anyone stupid enough to follow us."

"I don't think an army will be deterred by that," I exclaimed as we crested a hill. At dawn, Percy had awoken us and told us to saddle up. He had spoken briefly about Jason, indicating a hill a few hundred yards away. From the blood on his shirt I could guess what had happened there, and the rest of the morning I had spent pestering Percy with questions. Finally, he had caved in an told me the full story of what happened.

"Twelve men killed by a single combatant," Percy argued. "It has to make them hesitate. That and the fact that they don't know their way around the hills with ensure we have time to complete the offering."

I had learned about the offering— a tribute to the war god Ares, presented by Percy because he was the captain. He would be going into the gods temple alone, leaving the sword there and then getting out before Ares could get annoyed and zap him. From what I could tell, there was some friction between the captain and the war god. Still, it was Percy's duty as captain to perform the ceremony, and Ares technically couldn't kill him while he was doing it.

"The ancient laws forbid it," he had told me, and left it at that. Now we continued in prolonged silence, with me pondering and Percy's glaring coldly ahead. It was clear that our conversation had left Percy angry, although I wasn't sure at what.

"If you say so," I said dubiously as we rode on. The Hills of Utah seemed to be a endless landmass of rolling, shifting hills that resembled sand dunes. Every now and then, a guttural roar would break out. They scared me, but Percy just brushed them off as we rode. The sun beat down on us the whole way but we didn't stop, the horses hooves beating on the light green grass, first climbing up the slopes and then skidding down. The weren't steep, but I was guessing that it was hard work on the steeds. Still we drove them further.

It was probably almost night when we reached the crest of another Hill and suddenly there was a red temple, less than a five minute ride away from us. It was a glorious building, despite the blood-red colour, with soaring columns and arching temples. A great spire rose up, with a roaring green fire topping it off. Weapons bristled from every open space on the temple, and through the massive columns I could make out the outline of a massive statue sitting in a throne.

"The temple of Ares," Thalia breathed. "The center of war, the heart of violence and the single most hated building in the world." She made a face as we neared, and I was too awed to answer her. True, there were castles in Britain, but none that could top this building.

"If you think that's impressive," Percy told me, "You should sea Poseidon's."

"Or Zeus's," Thalia piped up, and Jason nodded in agreement. Clarisse was looking at the temple with something like happiness on her face, and I realized that that temple was built for her father.

"What now?" Jason asked as we reached the front of the temple, reining in our horses and staring up at the massive building. It towered over us, at least sixty feet tall.

"Tell Clarisse and her brothers to ready the fire," Percy commanded, slipping of his horse and grabbing a bundle from his saddlebags. "You will see to it that they are prepared at dawn?"

"Of course," Jason nodded, dismounting his horse in suit. I followed.

"Good," Percy said. "I need to prepare."

* * *

**Alright, before people start telling me how Percy is OOC, just take a minute and think it over: would he be harsher if he grew up a pirate in ancient greece, left with a broken heart and forced to sail the seas killing people? I think yes. **

***IMPORTANT*  
I have a question. Actually, two questions, and if you guys could drop a review telling me the answer, that'd be awesome. **

**#1: Do you want this story to be purely Greeks vs. British? Or would you like me to bring in other cultures (i.e romans, Japanese, Aztecs, Vikings, Desert Warriors) as well? **

**#2: Do you want me to make this story one really long (as in like 150k+ words) but one solid story, with one plotline? Or do you want me to break it up in six (?) shorter, but still pretty long books? Drop a review telling me which. **

**I love you guys, you're the best. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Ahem.**

**Surprise!**

**in full honesty, the only reason you guys are getting this chapter right now is because my other story, Not For Me, is ending and i just needed to get it over with. After this chapter, I'm going to take another couple of weeks and ill again update on the 19.**

**enjoy!**

* * *

_Percy_

I stepped out of the tent, holding my chin high and trying my best to look regal and official. I had always seen Luke do this, and knowing that it would be my job someday, I paid attention to everything that he did: the way he walked, the position of his head, the way he treated other people, the calm look he always had on his face.

Giving an offering to the gods was no little thing. It called for a great deal of ceremony, honed and perfected through years of trial and error— 'error' usually meaning someone died. Because of this, I was now dressed not in my usual combination of half-length Greek robes with a shirt underneath, trousers and my captains hat. Instead, I was dressed like the Greek Prince I was.

Flowing white robes that draped graciously over my shoulder, held in place by a solid emerald buckle. I had on sandals with shin-length ties, tightened and polished to perfection. Over my robes, I wore ceremonial silver armor with wave patterns etched on to the surface and the captains insignia over my heart. Scale-like arm guards gleamed in the sun as I walked, the individual silver plates contracting and expanding to fit my arms perfectly. Riptide was around my waist, sheathed and kept up by a blue braided cord. To top it all off, I had a flowing blue cape tied over my back.

All in all, I felt kind of foolish. Still, I tried to keep my head up as I walked in between my crew, nodding curtly to each of them as I passed. Beckendorf stepped forwards with Ares' sword in a cut leather sheath, and I took it from him with a short bow. It was heavy, but Luke had never showed signs of strain so I made sure none were on my face as I walked.

I saw Annabeth out of the corner of my eye, saw how she opened her mouth to talk, and was glad when Jason put his hand over her lips to silence her. Now was not a time for talking; now was a time for focus. One error and I would literally burst in to flames. While I had been getting dressed, Clarisse and her two siblings had gone into the Ares temple and spread out the red powder that would be set alight to signal the start of the ceremony.

I stopped in front of the massive temple, right in between the middle of the two columns. At a signal from me, Jason drew in a deep breath and called out to the assembled pirates:

"Atten-tion!"

It was the same call I had made numerous times before, when Luke had been captain. At the words, every pirate sank to their knees and stabbed their weapon into the ground, bowing their heads. Annabeth was a second late, but caught on remarkably quick and followed in suite. I let out a deep breath and took a moment to collect myself. All my instincts screamed to offer a prayer to Poseidon, but that was the wrong thing to do. Now was a time for Ares, and my fate was in his hands alone.

"Oh, mighty god Ares," I chanted. "Please, accept my offering to your mighty powers!" The words sounded horribly cliché and scripted, but we Greeks always had a sense of drama. What happened next proved that.

The powder that Clarisse and her siblings had laid out burst into flames, leaping almost to the ceiling of the temple and burning strong, a cackling inferno that threatened to melt by bones and turn my skin to ash. That was my signal from Ares to proceed into his temple, to the altar where I would lay down his sword and offer a final prayer before leaving. If all went to plan, I would be able to step right through the flames.

If I got it wrong, I wouldn't have enough time to realize what had happened before I was whisked away to Hades. Luke had always made this look so easy when he did it, and I knew that no matter how hard I tried I wouldn't be able to copy the confidence that was in his eyes.

Trying not to think about what would happen, I took two steps straight into the burning flames. For a second, I was surrounded by boiling, frothing flames, unable to breatheunable to think as the fire consumed me.

Then I was out on the other side and into the massive temple, my footsteps ringing on the marble floor as I strode quickly across the massive temple. The insides were decorated with statues of war and death, with weapons hanging from the roof and sticking out of the walls. As I passed, a spear fell from the roof and embedded itself in the floor three feet away from me. I cast a nervous glance at it before continuing towards the massive statue of the war god, towering thirty feet high and set in red ore, embroidered with black stone to add detail. Empty eye sockets with burning Greek fire stared down at me. Resting at the giants statue's feet, there was s red stone altar, the sides decorated in more gruesome scenes: the war of Greece, Hercules fighting the Hydra, Perseus slaying Medusa and, to my disgust, a scene from by battle with Atlas.

When I drew level with the altar, I sank down on to one knee and bowed my head until my chin touched my chest. The, holding up the sword with straight arms, I began to speak.

"Oh, Ares, god of war, patron of battle strategy and technique…" I tried to not let my voice tremble as the weight of the seven-foot sword pressed down on my shoulder muscles. "Accept my offering to your mighty power and bless the crew of the Argo." With that, I lay down the sword on the altar and stayed, with my head bowed, until I was aware of another presence in the room.

Now came the scary part. Ares himself was less than five feet away from me, inspecting the weapon I had just brought him with a critical eye. I knew if I were to look up and glimpse the god, I would burst into flames and be gone, whisked away to the Underworld. Instead, I stayed where I was, trembling with fear until the war god left.

I had barely risen to my feet when an ear-splitting _crack_ reverberated around the massive temple, bouncing off the columns and amplifying by a hundred. I tensed, every muscle in my body tightening as I recognized the sound. It was gunfire.

_Annabeth _

Before I could even react, Jason shoved me aside and into one of the pillars. I stumbled and crashed into the ground, the bullet whizzing overhead and slamming into the stone. I felt a spray of dust land in my hair and shook it out.

We were in a bad position. The Arcadian army, marching in three lines of two hundred soldiers, were less than a hundred meters away. A third of them were mounted cavalry units, riding at the back with their three-foot lances and long-swords. The rest of the army were infantrymen, mostly wearing half armour and wielding swords or spears.

To make matters worse, the cart holding our equipment was behind the line of soldiers. All we were armed with was a single spear that Nico had grabbed, and you could tell the weapon was horribly off-balance in his hands.

"Uh-oh," Jason muttered from beside me. I climbed to my feet and looks over to where he was pointing at the army. The first rank had dropped to their knees and were lowering their guns. The second rank, still standing, was doing the same thing.

"What do we do?" I asked urgently. At first I had suggested that we merely duck inside the Ares temple and make a defensive stand there, but Jason had squashed that idea by telling me we would all bursts into flames.

All my life, I had been a planner and a thinker as well as a fighter. I was the one to sit down with the general and show him where to put his troops lest he wanted to loose the battle. Now, however, everything was different. Suddenly, there was monsters, and magic and demigods and nothing they had ever taught in school.

"We duck behind the pillars," Jason answered nervously. "Press yourself flat against it, and it should be enough to stay outside the temple."

"Are you sure?" Nico asked nervously, clutching his spear tightly.

"No time to consider!" Jason yelled urgently. "Behind the pillars! Go!" I lunged for the nearest one, spinning behind it and forcing myself as close to the rock as physically possible. The deafening _crack_ of gunfire echoed around. The temple, bullets slamming into the stone and sending shrapnel flying. I could feel an angry presence in the air, like a massive figure was glowering down on the Arcadian army.

"What happens next?" Jason asked me from twenty feet away, where he was pressed against the nearest column.

His answer came in the form of another deafening _crack _as the second rank fired. This time, I swore I could hear an angry growl as the earth shook and the temple vibrated.

"_Now_ the army charges," I told Jason. "And we have to fight."

Just as I said it, I heard running footsteps and Percy burst out of the temple, the flames dying down as he exited. He looked around frantically, before giving a relieved sigh when he saw everyone was accounted for.

"What happened?" He asked frantically, gazing at the army and frowning. "That's not good."

"We don't have any weapons," Jason told him. "Although with Clarisse, I'm not sure we'll need them." I followed his line of sight to the daughter of Ares, who was being held back by Thalia and Hazel. She was screaming at the army, yelling death threats and curses alike.

"We need the weapons cart," Percy said thoughtfully. "Nico, hand me the spear." Th boy did as told and Percy gripped the shaft tightly, staring out at the oncoming army. He nodded a few times, sizing them up, before hefting the spear, taking two steps and throwing it.

I watched in awe as the weapon hit a guard in the first rank right in the face. Before the man could hit the ground, Percy was there, yanking the spear out and flipping it around so he could hold it underhand. Faster then my eye could follow, he struck down two more Arcadians before spinning low and sweeping upwards, impaling a third through the chin. He continued to move forwards, spear spinning in a blur as he knocked enemies left and right.

At the word of a commander, a cavalryman charged forwards, swinging his sword at Percy. The Captain tried to parry, but the heavy blade sheared through the wood of his spear, and the metal tip dropped to the ground with a _thunk. _I could hear an audible groan go up from the pirates, but Percy didn't even break rhythm, driving his shoulder into the horse and sending the animals stumbling. He lashed out with his spear, which he now held as a quarter staff, scattering guards like tenpins. The whole while, Percy was working his way towards the weapons cart.

Two guards broke formation and lunged at Percy. He reacted like a snake, striking twice and knocking both guards back. He continued in his rampage, striking left and right and clearing a path to the ca

Out of the blue, a guard lunged forwards and swung his shield in a horizontal ark. Percy blocked vertically with his spear, and with a snapping sound the weapon broke in half.

Percy paused in his rhythm, looked down at the two useless weapons in his hands, shrugged and lunged forwards, sending half a dozen guards flying before I could see what had happened. He stepped forwards and threw the shorter piece of wood underhand hard enough to lift another Arcadian off the ground and send him sailing backwards. Then, gripping the other piece of wood tightly, he met a vertical sword strike with a diagonal parry, the blade biting into the wood. With a casual flick of his wrist, Percy twisted around and forced the sword into the ground. He stepped on the blade, disengaged his weapon and knocked the wielder out cold.

Picking up the massive cavalry sword in a one-handed grip, he continued to wreck hell in the group of guards until finally, he reached the weapons cart. Striking down two more Arcadians with lightning speed, he leaped up, discarded his stolen sword and grabbed Riptide.

A complicated series of blindingly-fast strikes gave Percy enough breathing room to shrug on his shield and spur the horses into action. He yelled at them, and they started moving as if following his words. I guess, based on what I had seen so far, that wasn't impossible.

Within a minute, Percy had ploughed his way through the army and to the steps of the temple. He wasted no time jumping down, tossing me my knife and shield before attacking the oncoming army. I joined in, rushing forwards to meet the oncoming guards. One swung a sword at me and I blocked with my shield, before lunging forwards and stabbing him through the ribs. Before he could fall I had moved on to the next guard, striking him down with ease. I continued to move deeper and deeper into the lines of the Arcadian army, spinning and slicing. I put ,y shield to good use, deflecting sword strikes and spear thrusts and even using it as a battering ram as I had seen Percy do before.

I was aware of a presence behind me and spun, bringing my shield in a diagonal arc to hit my opponent in the ribs. Only them did I realize that I was surrounded on all sides by Arcadians, and there wasn't another Greek in sight. Either they were off fighting their own battles, or they were dead. I didn't have time to worry about it, however, before a horseman charged me and I had to parry his battle axe off of my shield. The force of the blow sent me stumbling backwards. I felt my foot catch on a lifeless arm and I dropped to the ground, landing hard and watching my shield roll away. I saw the cavalryman wield in a wide circle as he prepared to take another run at me and kill me.

Then Jason was there, stabbing forwards with a golden lance and sending the man toppling to the ground. Then, before my eyes, his lance melted into a sword and he whirled around, planting himself above me and keeping me protected.

Percy appeared at my side, hauling me to my feet while simultaneously sending Riptide into the heart of an oncoming Arcadian.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled, spinning around and slashing his sword across two more chests. Blood arced high in the air.

"I was fighting!" I yelled back, deflecting a thrust with my dagger and knocking the assailant out with a left hook. "Isn't that what you do in battles?"

"Not when you're outnumbered thirty to one it isn't!" Percy exclaimed, disengaging from me for a second to fight through a knot of a dozen Arcadians to save Jason, who had been on the verge of getting decapitated. "Come on, time to go!"

Together, we fought our way through the army until we reached the front line. I stabbed one last knight before we were in the clear, just meters away from the Ares temple. I could see the horses were lined up, prancing nervously as the battle ragged around them.

"Is everyone here?" Percy asked, quickly scanning the rest of the pirates, who were gathered in a circle around the horses. The pace of the battle had slowed down a lot as the Arcadians slowly started to circle us.

"Except Clarisse," Nico said, and I followed his gaze to where the daughter of Ares was utterly decimating the left flank of the army, yelling _destroy my dads temple? _ And _die, good for nothing cowardly Brits._

After a lot of yelling, she finally fought he way over to us, her electric spear sending guard toppling left and right. Without a word, we all mounted and Percy led a mad gallop through the Arcadian army until we finally broke free, turned around the backside of the temple and then galloped as fast as we could away from the army.

"My God," I whispered in awe.

"God_s," _Percy corrected from beside me, smirking slightly at the stunned expression on my face. I had a sneaking suspicious he was enjoying this.

Spread out before me, in every direction I could see, was absolute nothing. Just seconds ago, we had been in the Plains of Uthal, the endless, rolling expanse of yellow grass and rock outposts. The, we had crested one final hill, and spread out before us was the largest plains I had ever seen.

It was an ocean of rippling, knee-high grass that extended as far as my eyesight allowed— and there was not a cloud in the sky, nor any obstructions to block my vision. It was huge. I could actually see a line where the sickly, stained grass of the hills ended and the lush, flowing grass of the plain began. It was incredible.

"The Plains of Modriar," Percy explained from beside me. "The bloodiest battleground in the world. Here, legends were made, myths were born and the Legacy of Greece rose from the ashes of a fallen age."

"I don't see Greece," I said, confused. Percy had made it sound as if the city was sitting right there in front of me.

"We must make up time," he said, and urged Blackjack forwards into a trot. I followed him patiently, knowing that he was going to explain in due time. Finally, he started talking again.

"Not all battles," he began at length. "Were fought and won by humans. And the earth, despite your seven-day myth—" I didn't even protest at this point. Percy seemed a whole lot more confident about what he was talking about than I had ever been with the Bible. "— The world wasn't always ruled by the gods. There was… a darker age, before us, before the Brits, before the Gods and Greece herself."

"The Titans," I guessed, and Percy nodded slowly. "Exactly. How did you know?"

"When we were talking about Atlas," I smiled, enjoying having the jump on him. "You mentioned darker powers, and people who followed them. You said Atlas was one of them."

"Good memory," Percy praised, before continuing. "But yes, thousands of years ago the world was ruled by Titans. The called it the golden age, but it was anything but. The world was a wild, savage place, with monsters roaming freely. Humans were used for food or slavery, and for a while we were wiped out completely due to the fact that every time a human entered the room with a titan, he would burst into ash."

I waited patiently for Percy to get to the part about the Plains, knowing he would in his own due time.

"Finally, though, the gods were able to rise up against the lord of the Titans, Kronos, and capture the western lands. Kronos still ruled over the East, and eventually, the two met in battle on this very spot."

I froze for a second, losing my rhythm on the horse and slamming into the saddle painfully. I barely noticed. The fact that we were standing on this spot, the very spot where the two greatest powers had ever met, blew my mind. I could almost see the gods and the titans meeting in a clash of brilliant power, mountains being hurled and the very earth itself splitting as the two sides fought. It was a terrifying notion.

"This is also the spot," Percy continued, "Where the British and the Greeks fought for two weeks. The Greeks lost."

I noticed he didn't go into quite as much detail with that one, and I could sense it was a sore spot. Quickly, I changed the subject.

"How did the gods come to be?" I asked, and he smiled gratefully, before explaining.

(**A/N: I know this isn't the actual version, but I figure if the rest of the story is AU then why shouldn't this be?)**

"In the form of a human being," Percy said. "In a time when humans didn't exist. The boy, who had no idea how he came to existence, or what his name was, was forced to live in a world not made for a lone boy. But somehow, he survived. He faced monsters, and the wrath of the titans, and forces much older and more powerful than is safe to speak about."

"When this boy was sixteen, a message was sent to him in a dream by the fates. They told him that the scales of power were tipping, and that the boy had to stand up to the titans if he wished the earth to survive. At first, the boy refused, wishing to die instead, but then the Fates told him of what he would gain: Immortality, a life of power, his place as ruler of the world. When he was still unconvinced, they took out a single, never-ending thread of gold and cut it before his eyes. This was their way of promising him revenge on the one who had caused him this life, the one who had bestowed terror on earth."

"Kronos," I guessed, and Percy nodded.

"The Fates then tied the remaining gold string around his wrist, saying it would guide him to his destiny. The next day, the man— who was not yet of legal age, but had been through far too much to be considered a boy— set out across the lands of the sun, through the passage of Atlas and finally, finally, to the Great Plains."

It only took me a second to realize that the Great Plains were the Plains or Modriar.

"And when he got here, with death itself on his heals, the string led him to a fountain of water. He drank from the fountain, and incredible power flowed through him. Then, once he had quenched the thirst of several days of travel, he turned to face the oncoming monsters."

"The first one to reach him got thrown into the spring, and the water was tainted with salt. The next one, a ferocious warrior wielding a sword of death itself, was tossed aside and knocked out. One by one, the man fought his way through the eleven soldiers who had been sent by Kronos to stop him. And one by one, the Time Lords champions fell at his feet and began to change."

"Let me guess," I interjected. "They became the gods, no?"

"Precisely," Percy nodded. "Poseidon, my father, was the first. Uncle Hades was the second. After that, the order is a bit messed up as every god tries to claim he or she was the next one turned, and therefore the most powerful."

As I tried to process this massive tale, Jason urged his horse up next to Percy. I noticed that he had his lance drawn.

"I hate to interrupt your little powwow," he said to Percy. "But if you're good and done being all _look at me, I'm a mysterious and dramatic captain, _the Arcadian Army has crested the rise behind us. They're charging."

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**I have to say, this isn't my best piece of work, but tell me what you guys think all the same. Reviews mean the world to me**

**REVIEW**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello!**_  
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**So, I just want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and has reviewed so far. This story is way bigger than I ever expected it to be, and when we hit 200+ reviews in under ten chapters I was struck by a bolt of realization: **

**This story has the potential to go big. Like, really big, and after I realized this I started to get a crazy idea. Could we get 1000 reviews on this story? I know it sounds crazy, but I've got so many plottwists and adventures that the crew has to go through that I might actually do it. I don't want to sound like someone who begs, but please review :)**

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and there's an important question to be answered at the end!**

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_Percy_

My head snapped up and I pulled on Blackjack's reins, spinning him around in a circle so I could face where Jason had pointed. Sure enough, the army was trotting slowly across the plain, gaining speed as they went. They were still a ways away, however, and I knew we had time.

"Numbers?" I asked frantically. Jason answered.

"Five hundred."

"_Hades," _I swore. "Alright. We probably have twenty minutes before they reach us, and they won't charge right away. They'll wait for a bit, see what's happening and how we're going to meet their defense." I looked at him, and he nodded to show he was following me. "Annabeth, tell Nico to get Thalia and the Apollo kid to pour everything they got into that army. If they say they're out of range, tell them to move within range or I'll do it for them." She bobbed her head and took off. I took a calming breath.

"They'll be expecting a shield wall," Jason advised from Tempest, gazing over to the army. A hammerhead, with the archers to protect our flanks and you and me driving outwards." The shield wall was a well practiced technique, used for fighting against a much larger army. We would arrange ourselves in an arrow formation, with the best fighter at the front. Whatever archers we had would stay back from the spearhead and help protect and one who tried to get at the rear of our formation. At first, we would hit the army head-one, slashing and smashing and shoving and doing whatever we could to slow them down. Gradually, we would spread out into a wall, each man fighting for himself. The flanks would, inevitably, be driven in after time. Before refinement, this had been the great weakness of the shield wall, but after legendary commander Leonidas had changed it, it became it's greatest strength.

As the flanks collapsed, the wall would slowly turn into a circle, with the four best fighters falling into position in the middle of the band of fighters. The archers would take their place in the fighting. This formation would continue for a few minutes, before the circle slowly started to close in on itself, the weakest men going to the outside, the strongest moving to the inside.

And then, and a word from a commander, the action would grind to a halt as the shield wall pushed out with their shields, slamming their assailants back. The formation would break and the hidden fighters would lash out, striking with speed and ferocity only known to the Greeks. Then they would sink back in and the circle would reassert itself.

"Why do you say that?" I asked Jason. Even though I was the Captain, it was my job to listen to him in battle and consider his opinion.

"Last time the fought us, we were a bunch of individual, unformed fighters. They'll think we're planning on doing the same thing, and they think we're thinking the same one. So they'll be expecting us to do the opposite of what we think they think we're doing. Therefore, they'll expect us to form as a shield wall."

"So it's a matter of _last time they did a, so they're going to expect us to think we're expecting them to do the same think so we're going to do the opposite of what they think we thing they're going to do which is what they're actually thinking?" _I asked, and Jason screwed up his face in confusion.

"If you say so," he muttered, and I smiled.

"I think," I smiled, and Jason screwed up his face even more. Finally, he gave up trying to understand and sighed.

"But they'll be expecting us to be an shield wall," he summarized, and I called Annabeth over. When she arrived next to me, I asked,

"You have knights in Britain, right?"

"Of course," she nodded, not quite understanding where I was coming.

"How would, say, five hundred of you meet a shield wall?" I asked, and she responded without even thinking.

"Hammerhead blows," she replied, and I nodded. The Brits were infamous for several things, and originality— or lack there of— was one of them. The hammerhead was another Greek strategy, usually used against smaller numbers in a confined space. The army would form up into ranks of ten or twenty, each rank standing away from each other. Then, at a word from their General, they would charge the tightly compact enemy. The first half of the Hammerhead formation would smash into the enemy with shields, sending them stumbling. Then the second half would reach in with long swords and spears and jab at any weaknesses they could see in the formation. By the time the shield wall could mount any sort of counter-attack, the Hammerhead would run back to their lines and the second formation of twenty would strike.

It was originally a cavalry move, used to sustain the greatest advantage a mounted rider had: the first, crushing impact as they used their horses speed to drive into their enemy. With a bit of modification, it became a lethal infantry tool as well.

"As I thought," I nodded, thinking quickly. "Okay, here's what we'll do. Form up like a classing shield wall, arrow formation, me at Jason at the point, Nico and Annabeth flanking him. We'll have the archers pour whatever they have left into the oncoming army, and then we'll wait for the charge."

"And once they get close?" Jason asked.

"Everyone dive of to the said," I told him. I'll cut down a couple of people, spook a few horses and run. Once I've caused as much panic as I can—"

"Which is a lot," Annabeth said, and I nodded in thanks. I was about to coniue, but Jason had caught on and was finishing up for me.

"Once you've done that, the rest of us turn and charge them from either side," he supplied, and I nodded vigorously. We would have them trapped between two solid lines of Greeks.

"That'll only work once," Annabeth cautioned, and I nodded.

"That's the problem," I frowned, trying to figure something out. Maybe we could alternate between the dive-for-cover method and the normal shield wall method? It was Annabeth who gave me the answer.

"The second time, we all form up like a shield wall again," she said, her brow creasing as she thought hard. "And then, once the army has reached a full run—"

"They'll spread out," Jason warned, and she nodded.

"I'm counting on it." Now she turned to me. "Would you put one of your men against a single Arcadian?"

"Any day," I answered immediately. It wasn't even a contest.

"Good," she smiled. "Then once they spread out, we'll do the same thing and meet them head-on, man for man. They'll be scattered."

"That only gets rid of two Hammerheads," Jason warned. "We still have another twenty-three to deal with."

"We could turn and run," Annabeth supplied, and both Jason and I shook our heads immediately.

"And lead them back to Greece? No way." Jason shook his head, and I had to agree with him. I would rather die than lead the army back to my home, and I knew that the rest of the Greeks felt that way as well.

"Then once we've smashed the second hammerhead, we mount up and run like Hades," Annabeth said. I felt a brief smile tough my face as she invoked the god of the dead instead of hell, which I had no doubt she would have normally used.

"Run where?" Jason asked. "We've already been over this, we're not going back to Greece."

"Back to the ship," Annabeth answered. "And then we use the _Argo _to fight any ships that come after us."

"And that way, we get to choose the battleground," I nodded. "Plus, I'm sure Jason and I could stir up some trouble for them once we're at sea."

"I don't like the idea of running away," Jason frowned, and I nodded in understanding. It wasn't in my blood to run from a fight. I was Greek, and the thought of dying in battle on the Plains of Modriar sent my blood racing and Riptide buzzing at my side. It would be the greatest death a hero could wish for.

As I pondered this, the sky suddenly darkened, the light of the sun dimming and the wind picking up for a second. I saw the army falter in their preparations as they gazed around, trying to find the source of the temperature change.

And then, with a clap of thunder that came from nowhere, a middle-aged man appeared out of thin air in front of me, landing gracefully and sweeping into a short bow. He straightened up, and I took him in quickly.

Salt-and-pepper hair, white robes, an olive branch crown and a piece of wood clutched in his hand. My eyes went wide as I realized that the stick of wood was not, in fact, a stick of wood. It was a caduceus.

I scrambled quickly off of Blackjack's saddle and bowed deeply, lowering my head and toughing my knee to the ground. Without raising my eyes, I could sense the rest of the pirates do the same, Jason pulling Annabeth down with him. There was a moments pause, before I realized that it was up to me to speak, for I was the Captain.

"Lord Hermes," I said, carefully keeping my face low to the ground. Riptide's hilt was digging into my stomach, but I didn't dare move to adjust it.

There was a breathless moment of silence where no one dared to move, before the god chuckled.

"There was a time when I would appear, and people would sacrifice the nearest animal in my cause," he smiled. "Although in this case, I don't know if uncle would be too happy about that." His eyes drifted towards Blackjack, who stepped back nervously.

"I guess I'll have to settle for a bow," he finally finished. "Rise, Perseus Jackson. We are cousins, there's no need to get a cramp."

_Annabeth _

Percy stood up slowly, adjusting Riptide on his belt and turning to face the god fully. I felt a tug on my arm and realized that the rest of the pirates were doing the same. Standing up quickly, I brushed off the dirt from my legs and studied Hermes more closely.

He didn't look like a god— in the way that he wasn't a shimmering, mystical figure that was all deep brass tones and dramatic gestures. He looked like any regular working dad.

Except for the aura of power that seemed to radiate off of him like a wave, slamming into me and making my senses go into overload. My vision went into bright contrast, and for a second I couldn't see at all. I felt the world tip sideways and stumbled a couple of steps.

Jason caught my by the forearm, yanking my upright and tapping me a couple of times on the head. My vision cleared and I slowly focused on his smirking face.

"Happens to everyone the first time," he told me, making sure I had my bearings back before letting go of my arm. I thanked him quickly, before focusing more carefully on the man. And then I could see subtle differences in him. The two snakes on his caduceus were moving, slithering around and hissing at each other. His shoes had slowly flapping wings on them. And his form _did _in fact shimmer in the light. This was no regular man at all."

"What brings you here?" Percy asked. "Incase you didn't notice, we're about to fight a war here."

"Ah, yes," Hermes nodded. "The battle. That's actually the reason I'm here, see. I have…. He checked a note that just appeared in his hand, before folding it back up and letting it disappear with a _pop_. "I have a eleven-to-one vote against letting you die here on the battlefield."

"Oh really?" Percy asked, raising his eyebrows up. "May I ask what the reasons were?"

"Well," Hermes said, consulting the note again. "Lord Poseidon doesn't want his only son to die, same as his two brothers. Hephaestus says that if you die, he'll loose his TV star. Demeter says that if you're going to die, you may as well do it in a field of wheat. Dionysus says that Hades is depressed already, and Nico dying won't help… that one's true. Athena claims that by dying, you're dumping the ships responsibility on her eldest son, and he's not ready for that. Also, she called you illiterate and says you need a bigger library on board the ship."

"Right," Percy muttered. "Jason, as soon as we get back to Greece, remind me to find someone who can read both Spanish and Greek, and then we'll go to Spain and raid _their_ library."

"Apollo says you have a prophecy to fulfill, and Greece will burn if you die here, so we can't let that happen… Artemis claims that letting the only man who has her respect die would be a pity… I just don't want you to die. Oh, and Aphrodite said that you would be breaking up at least six of her favourite couples by dying here, and that absolutely cannot happen."

"I see," Percy smirked. "And what about Hera?"

"She said that she hates every last one of you brats and dying here would immensely please her."

Percy turned away and muttered under his breath, before turning back towards the god. "So we should run away?"

"Well, I never said that," Hermes smiled. "I'm sure there's a general consensus in the Throne Room that we wouldn't mind you taking a few of them out before you turn and flee."

"Got you," Percy said, before facing his crew. "_You heard him! Get your weapons! Get into formation! Lets get 'em!" _

With a loud cheer, the Greeks piled towards their weapons cart, grabbing at their swords and shields and spears. Jason took charge, yelling at the top of his lungs to get the crew of twenty into a shield wall.

"Good luck, Perseus Jackson," Hermes said. "Gods be with you."

"Don't I wish," the captain smiled, before clasping forearms with the god. He turned away as Hermes disappeared into thin air. Percy turned back to me, his eyes narrowing.

"What're you waiting for, Chase?" He demanded. "Go! Move! Grab your shield and prepare to hold the wall!"

_Percy_

The ground was shaking. I could feel the approaching army just as well as I could hear them as they drew closer by the second. Riptide was clutched tightly in my right hand, and my shield was strapped tightly around my left. I was preparing myself for battle, taking deep, calming breaths as I tried to visualize what to do. As soon as Jason was out of the way, that would be my cue to lunge forwards and wreck Hades.

I could tell, by the sound of their footsteps, that the enemy wasn't mounted. They were charging on foot, and that made my life a whole lot easier.

"HOLD!" Jason yelled from above me, bracing one foot in front of the other. "Stand brave, Greeks! Let no man forget how we died!"

There was a massive cheer from the group, and I resisted the temptation to join in. It was the sort of speech that a captain would give right before he led his group into death by battle, and the Greeks were putting on quite a show of being excited. To them, I knew, this was the greatest thing that could happen.

Any second now, I knew, Jason would lunge out of the way. Sure enough, I saw his muscles tense, his shield come forward and his sword lower a bit…

"NOW!" He yelled, diving off to the right. Annabeth and Nico followed, going their respective ways, and I exploded outwards with a drawn-out yell of defiance. The original plan had been for me to smash a few shields, kill a couple of Arcadians and then get out of the way. But now my blood was racing and my vision started turning red with every Arcadian I slashed down. These inferior, arrogant knights had invaded my homeland, desecrated a sacred temple and dared to charge my crew with every intent of killing them.

They deserved to burn in the fields of punishment for all time.

I wasn't exactly sure what happened. Riptide rose and fell, slashing down Arcadians left and right. In less than a minute, I was surrounded by a ring of fallen men, all either wounded or dead.

"Form up!" I heard Jason yelling urgently. I looked up, my vision clearing, and saw that the second Hammerhead was already charging. My crew scrambled into a Shield Wall, with my at the head. Sure enough, the hammerhead was spreading out, preparing to surround us and crush us with numbers this time.

I smiled as they drew closer. This, _this_ is what I had been bred for. I felt my eyes narrow to slits through my helmet as I sized up the man who was prepared to slam into me. He was large, carrying a battleaxe and a kite-shaped shield. He carried both weapons with practiced ease.

Three more seconds and we was on top of me. His axe came down in a massive arc, splitting the air with a _hiss_ as it cleaved towards me. I brought my shield up, bracing my arm for impact.

The axe head bounced clean off of my shield. I could see shock register on my opponents face. It was the last thing he would ever do, because a second later Riptide snaked between his ribs and he collapsed. I looked around for another Arcadian to kill, but they were already dead. The next Hammerhead had hesitated in their charge and were now scrambling for horses. They had obviously decided that a mounted assault would work much better.

I whistled loudly, keeping my eyes on the approaching army. Their hoof beats merged with the ones coming from behind me for a second, before the two pairs overlapped each other again. I could literally feel the ground shaking as forty horses thundered closer. The army was drawing closer by the second, and I started to fear our horses wouldn't make it in time.

And then— _hop on!_

I responded instantly to the voice in my head, reaching out with my left hand, grabbed the saddle pommel on Blackjack's saddle and swung up into the seat with practiced ease, my horse not even breaking stride.

We crashed into the nearest Arcadian at a full gallop. I brought Riptide up in a terrifying arc, the full force of Blackjacks charge behind it, and a rider toppled from his saddle. Pulling hard on the reins, I sent my Pegasus rearing and spinning, his front hooves lashing out and knocking down two more men. Then his powerful wings flapped once and we were airborne, Blackjack delivering one more kick for good measure.

I scanned the ground, making sure that all my crew was through. Michael Yew had gotten knocked off of his horse by a sword, but he seemed to be handling the situation fine. He had his recurve bow in hand and was picking off Arcadians with ease, arrows screaming threw the air barely seconds apart.

I saw a man come up behind him and bring a sword up to strike. My hands scrambled for the crossbow lashed to Blackjacks' flank, but before I could bring it around to fire the man dropped. I scanned the crowd and saw Annabeth lowering her weapon, her grey eyes calm and cool.

Hands moving in a blur, Michael sent the last of his ten arrows flying in a flash of silver and gold. Each ten found their mark, giving him enough time to mount up and gallop away, bent low over his saddle.

"Come on!" I yelled to Blackjack, angling downwards to where my crew was forming up and running at full tilt. I saw the army ahead of us scramble into a formation to intercept us, but it was too late. We were headed away too quickly, at too sharp of an angle.

Probably just for vengeance, Thalia fired three arrows at a distance of four hundred meters. Two found the eyeholes of Arcadian Captains. The third hit the chest of the Arcadian commander, sending him sliding from his horse into a crumpled heap on the floor.

And then we were off; beating hell for the shores of Arcadian, and Hades help anyone who got in our way.

_Annabeth_

"For the gods!" Travis Stoll yelled, lifting his cup into the air. Rum sloshed out and splashed onto the table, but no one noticed. A roar went up from the pirates and they all copied the gesture, for rum sloshing onto the ground.

"For the ship!" Beckendorf yelled, repeating the salute. Another roar went up, more rum sloshed, and all the pirates drank quickly.

"Refills all around!" This was Nico, his hair slightly disheveled and his words just the slightest bit slurred. This gained a ragged chorus of agreement as the wind nymphs whipped around the room, filling up the golden goblets that the pirates were using.

"Three cheers for the captain!" Leo hollered once all their glasses were full, and the pirates took up the cheer eagerly. Percy smiled modestly at his spot at the head of his table, lifting his own mug in acknowledgment as the pirates finished their "hip-hip-hoorays!" and drank deeply. I joined them, draining the rest of my strong ale as loud chatter broke up. The drink burned my throat, but I had to admit it felt nice after the hard few days I had been through. First the kidnapping, the fight with Atlas, Arcadia, our death-defying escape from the Plains of Modriar.

I reflected how much my life had changed in the past few weeks. Instead of my stiff, scratchy and tight-fitting British clothes, I was dressed in the finely woven Greek trousers, loose linen shirt and black half-length robed. My dagger swung from my hip, bouncing against my leg as I jostled. Life was, as much as it felt weird to admit it, a whole lot happier and more relaxed than it had been aboard the _Arthur. _

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Percy put down his goblet and stand up to leave, moving quickly through the ranks of drunken pirates. Several clapped him on the back and offered slurred congratulations, which he would always answer by returning the favor, before clasping forearms with the man and leaving as quickly as he could. I followed him, slipping through the masses. They were offering ragged cheers to the gods now, each group roaring when their parent was mentioned.

Percy quickly made his way up the stairs and onto the deck into the night, moving silently across the decking and finally going to stand on the giant bronze figurehead. He stepped up, grabbing a rope for support and swaying easily with the movements of the ship. I couldn't help but think he was the perfect image of grace and majesty as he stared silent out at his fathers' domain.

"I don't like being snuck up on."

I started at the sound of his voice. He hadn't turned, but the statement was obviously directed at me. I reluctantly stepped out of the shadows and finally Percy turned to see me.

"I was under the impression I wasn't making any noise," I told him. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"This is my home, Annabeth," he said. At first I thought he was talking about the ship, but then I caught the sweeping arm gestured and realized he was talking about the whole ocean. "I can sense my ship, and what's happening on my ship."

"There's a party going on downstairs," I pointed out, wanting to know the purpose of his midnight excursion. "Apparently, successfully delivering an offering to Ares requires celebration."

"It's not proper for a captain to get drunk," Percy told me. His gaze found me once again. "A crewmember, however, should have no obligation in waking up next morning with a man in her bed and no recollection of how she got there."

"I'm a lady," I pointed out, and the ghost of a smile touched Percy's face.

"In your culture," he said. "It is improper for a lady to behave as a man does. We Greeks believe this is wrong. You sail with us. You ride with us, you work with us, you fight at our side as if you were one of us. There is no reason you should act like one of us."

"Maybe I just don't like getting drunk," I argued, and Percy chuckled.

"Then you will not do well on this ship, Annabeth," he smiled. "It's time for you to return to the party, I think."

"I wish to stay up here." My voice was cold and determined, but Percy was unfazed.

"And I wish to be alone," he said. "We will be arriving in Greece in two days. There, you will be tried and tested under Greek law, and it will take my full leverage as Prince to save you from being put to death." His face twisted into an ugly snarl. "Plus, even a pirate is haunted by faces sometimes." Now his expression grew solemn. "I see them at night, you know. Standing there on the verge of reality, glaring at me with hatred. They wish me dead. Sometimes, I wish the same thing."

I wanted to console him, but there was little I could say. Instead, I just stood there while Percy collected his thoughts for a moment.

"But I will not let my sorrow ruin your night," he chuckled at length. "Go have a drink, Annabeth. Scratch that, have three. Then, find a man and wake up confused and exhausted." Now there was definitely a grin on his face. "I believe Conner Stoll has been feeling lonely lately. Go cheer him up." And with a small push, he propelled me down the stairs.

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**Don't worry, Annabeth doesn't get up to anything :p**

**Okay, two things. Two _major_ things, that will probably affect the story a whole lot. First of all, I didn't get the exact numbers, but there were definitely more reviews asking for other cultures than there were asking for Greeks vs. Brits, so that's what they'll do. Also, anyone who's read my profile lately knows that I have three books planned for this story. The first one, like you guys asked, will be one solid, long book. But I also realized that there's so much more I could do with this story, and so much more that needs to happen. Cramming it all into one book one just wouldn't work. **

**So here's my compromise: Three long books, with a solid plotline going through all of them. There'll be The Brotherband Chronicles (this one), The Stones of Mnemosyne, and The Foreign Flag. This means that I get to fit all the extra stuff (character death, dramatic quests, an overthrown god) into the books without it being to cramped. **

**The second thing: Once I'm finished with those three stories, would you want me to continue writing the Brotherband Chronicles? Like, different plotlines, kind of like the Rangers Apprentice series? Just them on a boat running around being awesome? **

**If so, please say and make my life easier. Sorry for the ridiculously long AN**

**REVIEW**


	11. Chapter 11

**I have to say, you guys are awesome. More than thirty reviews on one chapter? I love you all, and hope you'll support me to my goal of getting 1000 reviews. For all the people who've been telling me that all I care about it reviews, I'll be truthful. I love reviews. They make my day, and they give me the inspiration to keep writing because I know that someone likes my story. But no, I'm not just writing for the reviews. I'm writing because I love to write. **_  
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**Enjoy the chapter!**

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_Annabeth _

I groaned and rolled over in bed, blinking rapidly and trying to sooth my headache. There was, thankfully, no man in the bed next to me, although I was still fully clad in my clothes, with my dagger hanging off my hip, and my head felt like someone was driving a nail into it.

I would have liked to stay in bed for a while longer, but I could hear movement on the deck above me and decided it was time to get up. The sun was fully streaming through the portholes of the Athena room, which were freed of their leather covers and were allowing fresh air to flow into the room, which I was grateful for.

Dragging myself out of bed, I quickly bathed and dressed in fresh clothes, before heading upstairs. On the way, I stopped by the mess hall and got a fresh glass of water, which was delivered at break-neck speed by a wind nymph. Incredibly, not a drop was spilled.

Emerging into the light of day, I looked around to see the deck bustling with pirates. Percy himself was dressed and standing on the masthead of the _Argo, _leaning out over the water and holding a rope for support. I slowly made my way over to him, noticing that a grey mass was visible on the horizon now.

"You're awake," he greeted me with a smile. "How nice. And freshly bathed, I see." My hair was still damp. "How do you feel?"

"Awful," I admitted. "Truly awful." Percy only chuckled, before turning back to the landmass. Only when I saw how large it had gotten in the short period of time we had been conversing did I realize how quickly the ship was moving. All three of the _Argo's_ sails were flying fully with the wind behind them, and although she was too big for oars, there must have been some sort of mechanism powering the ship because a wake of water was being tossed up behind her. We were slicing through the waves like a sword through armor, so to speak.

"We'll be arriving in Greece today," Percy told me, his expression sobering slightly. "And you'll be tried for centuries of crimes against the Greeks that your people have committed."

"Harsh," I pointed out, and Percy just shook his head.

"You'll be either assigned to slavery or exiled to the Northern Lands," he said. "What if a British ship brought a Greek back to their homeland?"

"Public execution on sight," I answered immediately, before understanding where he was coming from. "Oh."

"We don't believe in death without trial," Percy said. "But it is hard to convince the committee against killing a Brit. They're hated in these parts."

"So I don't have much of a chance," I said dejectedly. Great. After all we had been through, after everything I had survived, it was only to arrive in Greece and die.

"Don't worry," Percy said, his face hard and determined. "I have the full leverage of the Geek Royal house behind me. If need be, I'll hike up to Olympus and drag Zeus himself down to testify for you."

"Why would Zeus be in my favor?" I asked, surprised. In my mind, the gods had more reason to hate the British than Percy did. The captain just smiled.

"His daughter would be mad at him," was all he said. He turned back towards Greece, which was growing larger by the second. I studied his body, his face, the lithe curves and defined muscles underneath his breastplate. Right now, his face was calm and relaxed, his strongly defined chin and mischievous smile clearly reflecting the godly side of his family. Riptide was hanging on his belt, but I had seen him draw the weapon and strike faster than anyone I had ever seen. In my short life, I had been to many places, from the dark streets of England to the sun-beaten, savage plains of Africa. I had see thousands of fighters, good ones, bad ones, all who had met their end at the end of a British musket. Never before had I seen something that could stand up to the force of a bullet, until Percy had come along.

There was no question in my mind: Percy was the greatest fighter I had ever seen. He was fast as a snake and strong as a bull, and he carried himself with such confidence that he went into every fight expecting to win. I was extremely glad that he was on my side.

"Is there something on my face?" He asked me with a smirk. I started, realizing that I had been staring at him. I blushed a deep red.

"Just… wondering," I said. "How good of a fighter you are." Percy arched an eyebrow at me. "I mean, in comparison to other cultures."

"Such as?" Percy asked. "Who would you say is the greatest British fighter?"

"William Marshal," I answered without hesitation. It was true. There was a large movement in Britain to bring us out of the knight-ages and into the days of lead and gunpowder, but there was a small creed of knights who believed that there would always be a time for hand-to-hand fighting.

"And how good is he?" Percy asked.

"Very good," I answered. "Incredible with all sorts of arms, and maybe the best horse-back rider I have ever seen. He is incredibly fast and so strong, and he fights with a four-foot sword as if it were a dagger."

"Hmm," Percy said, nodding slowly. "I am intrigued now. Someday, Annabeth Chase, I will meet this Sir Marshal on the battlefield." He made eye contact. "And I shall kill him, only so I may laugh in the face of your King."

And as bad as it should have sounded, I felt a sort of pleasure at the thought of the arrogant knight falling.

"The King is even more arrogant than Marshal," I told Percy. I wasn't sure why I was saying it, but it seemed like a good time to talk about the British. "He sits in his throne all day, with his feet propped up and being fed by servants, and when battle comes he demands to be carried in on a throne, where he sits and sends men to their death."

"As I thought," Percy nodded. "In Greek culture, the King will lead the charge whenever it is allowed."

"What if he dies?" I asked, and Percy smiled.

"Once the rest of the army has finished their fury-ridden battle, he will be burned and his soul will travel to the underworld, where the Greeks above him celebrate his courageous death."

"Why do you enjoy someone's death?" I asked, still puzzled by this tradition of theirs.

"Death in battle," Percy told me. "At the hands of an enemy, is the greatest fate that a Greek can achieve. For one who gives his life for the gods can will be given Elysium by the same gods."

"So you're just preparing for the next life," I summarized, and Percy nodded.

"And enjoying this one while we can," he added. Up ahead, I could see two low, wooden triremes approaching in oars. I could see each one held twenty men, all dressed in battle armor.

"I'll handle this," Percy told me lightly. Then, hopping up on to the masthead, he grabbed the nearest spear, wound up and hurled it at the closest boat.

Less than five seconds later, the spear whipped past Percy's shoulder, ruffling his hair before clearing the length of the ship and splashing into the water.

"What was that?" I asked, completely shocked. Percy grinned before answering.

"That was Reyna," he told me. "A… friend." Then he added, in a louder voice: "Who throws like my grandma!"

The reply came instantly. "Your grandma was a Titan, Kelp Head! I'll take that as a compliment."

_Percy_

"She's British."

The tax collector blinking, looked Annabeth over, glanced at me, blinked again and continued to stare at Annabeth. I let out a long suffering sigh.

"Yes, she's british," I snapped. "And she's under my protection, you'll notice."

"You're a ship captain," the little man replied. I growled and my right hand twitched towards Riptide.

"This is the _Argo_," I snarled, and the man started once he recognized the name. He tore his gaze off of Annabeth and focused on me, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"P-Perseus?" He asked, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. "You should have announced your arrival, prince! There would have been a banquet prepared, and a feast announced, and the parties would have carried on for days…"

"There's no time for that," I snapped, hauling him to his feet. "Bring me to my father. We were attacked on the Plains of Modriar." I held his gaze. "It was the Arcadian army. As of now, Greece goes to war.

Linebreak

Jason, Reyna and I marched down the peir, flanked by Annabeth and Thalia. Annabeth was looking around, her mouth forming a small O of surprise and wonder as she took in the great city.

Even after living here my entire life, the city was still incredible. Every building was built of sparkling white stone, cut perfectly and polished until it gleamed. The air was clean and fresh, and the roads were paved red lined with trees. The city was built around a hill, with the dockside surrounded by well-guarded buildings.

Once you got past the soaring black gates, the outer farms of the city started. Kilometers after that, you reached the base of the mountain, where the actually city started. The roads curled up the side of the peak, the buildings gradually getting larger and more grand as you ascended. Right at the very top of the mountain was a temple to the gods, a massive project that looked over the whole city and the surrounding countryside.

And just below that, smaller but no less grand, was my fathers royal palace, and my rightful home. One the other side of the mountain was the royal court of Greece, where all criminals were tried and normally executed.

The phalanx of twelve guards that were at the edge of the pier moved to stop us, their eyes searching the faces of my crew. They skipped over Reyna, as she was a normal guard of the waters, but the rest of us were under close inspection.

"Her," the head guard snapped, pointing at Annabeth. "I haven't seen her before."

I held his gaze, my hand twitching towards Riptide. "She's new."

"Where did you find her?" He demanded, taking a step closer to me. I felt by blood boil and my heart start to pound. I knew there was no way out of this situation.

"On a British ship," I replied, and I saw him move, his hand reaching for his Gladius as he started to shrug his shield back into a defensive position.

With a slithering _hiss_, Jason stepped forwards and drew his sword, swinging a kick that sent the guard off balance. The next instant, the son of Zeus had a golden blade pressed to his throat. Riptide was out a second later and I felt Reyna draw her own Gladius. Without looking, I knew Thalia would have an arrow notched in her bowstring.

The formation of guards responded instantly, shields swinging forwards and locking into a defensive, impenetrable formation. I clenched me teeth and spoke.

"Stand back, Jason."

Never taking his eyes off the front most man, Jason did as I instructed. I was slightly surprised; I had expected Jason to stay as he was. But he could understand the urgency of this situation.

"Stand down, men," I ordered, my voice still low and dangerous.

"Captain, I'm not sure you understand the full volume of this situation," the head guard told me, his sword now fully drawn and held ready. Riptide, on the other hand, was hanging relaxed by my side.

"Do enlighten me," I snapped sarcastically.

"You're harboring a fugitive," the guard said. "Any British captured and brought to Greece are under the full control and lawful influence of the Greek Royal Court."

"And councilman Theron," Jason said from next to me, letting out a short bark of laughter. "What do you think will happen to her?"

"What's fair," the guard replied, and I saw his muscles tense, his eyes flick to Jason and his shield drop fractionally.

A casual flick of my wrist and Riptide responded, striking up in a blur of bronze and knocking the officers thrust away from Jason's chest before he could even react. The man swung again and I leaned to the side, dodging lazily and letting the blade scream past my ear. I didn't strike back, merely letting the guard cut forehand and backhand, each strike ringing sharply off my own sword.

With one more flick of my wrist, I sent my opponents' blade spinning away across the dock. He gripped his shield tightly, no doubt prepared to continue the fight with just that weapon, but Reyna's voice cut through the conflict.

"_Stop_," she ordered. Obligingly, I stepped back but kept Riptide out. "Percy, put your sword away," she told me. I sent her a dry smirk and continue to swing it lightly. "_Percy."_

"Yes?" I asked, not taking my eyes of the formation. Reyna sighed, stepping forwards to place herself between myself and the guard formation. She glanced uneasily back at me, and I did my best to looked reassuring. Her position was ceremonial only; if I chose to, I could merely bypass Reyna without a thought and engage the phalanx.

It wasn't boastful; it was the truth. Reyna was a skilled, fearsome fighter whom I knew any enemy would cower before on a battlefield. But the fact was that she was neither willing nor able to be me in single-hand combat. She was, on contrast, quite a better shot with a spear or a bow, for that matter. In fact, most of the people in the army could best me with a bow and arrow.

"I think the best way to deal with this situation is calmly," she announced, speaking to both groups. "There will be no fighting in Greece, whether it be over a British fugitive or one mans injured pride." Her eyes settled on my, and I grinned in acceptance. But Reyna was having none of it and held my gaze until, with a sigh, I sheathed Riptide.

Seeing the weapon away did little to reassure the Guard, but the reluctantly relaxed their formation and slung their shields back into an unthreatening position.

"Good," Reyna said. "Now, Percy, it is proper for a British fugitive to be thrown into jail."

"And I would have no qualms," I answered. "If the mentioned enemy was not British, at least not in my eyes." I switched my gaze to the head of the guard. "She held her ground against a British ship, visited the Hills of Uthal and stood with me as we confronted the Arcadian Army."

Now the man was horrible confused. "Arcadian army?"

"Perhaps we should explain this to a higher court," I said. "I will place _Annabeth_," I stressed the name, to show that she should be referred to as such. "Under protection, and we shall travel the Royal Court and speak with my father."

"Your father?" He was lost now.

"The King," I explained. He started for a moment, before looking me over again and dropping to one knee hastily.

"King Perseus," he rushed. "Please, my Lord, my apologies." I looked at him, before giving a long-suffering sigh.

"I hate it when people do that," I muttered. "Thalia, look after Annabeth while we're away. Don't let anyone touch her, and if they do make sure you put multiple arrows through them." Then I looked at the guard, who had risen to his feet unsurely. "Alright, watchman. Take me to dad."

Linebreak

"It's amazing."

I spun in a slow circle, taking in the glimmering, soaring city around me. All around, people in white roads bustled and pushed past each other to get to wherever they were going. Several intricately carved fountains spat water high into the air, and I made a mental note to ask about how they did that. Perhaps, I thought, they used air pressure to send the water flying? Or maybe there was a crank system that shot it up and out of the statues. Either way, it made for a spectacular display. As Thalia and I passed one, I stopped and stared at the water for several minutes, before shaking my head in amazement.

"What is it?" Thalia asked from next to me. I pointed at the water.

"It stays the same level," I explained. "The water level stays the same, despite the amount that's being put it."

"It's the drains," The black-haired girl explained, pointing out two horizontal slits cut in to the bottom. "They take out the water at exactly the same rate it's put in, then they recycle it."

"It's amazing," I repeated. Thalia smiled.

"It's pretty simple, really," she told me. I shook my head in wonder one more time before following her down the nearest road, both sides lined with white houses.

"The markets up here," Thalia informed me. "We can get something to eat, if you'd like."

"I don't have any money," I said apologetically, and Thalia smiled briefly.

"Well, I do," she said. "And we're putting you through enough by dragging you to Greece, so we may as well pay for your food."

"Whose councilman Theron?" I asked as we resumed our walk, headed for a semi-covered courtyard a hundred meters away. I could hear yelling and smell an exotic mix of spices and cooking food. My mouth started to water.

"He's one of the most influential councilmen in the inner circle of Greeks," Thalia explained. "He hates Brits with everything inside of him, and he holds a strong resentment for demi-gods as well." I took a moment to digest this.

"So he hates Percy?" I asked, and Thalia nodded.

"He tried to seize the throne when Percy left to be a pirate," she added. "Percy's dad quickly reminded him that only royalty could take the throne, and if Theron made one move towards killing him Poseidon would strike Theron."

That led to another question. "How is Percy royalty, is his dad is Poseidon and his father is the carrier?" In Britain, the carrier was the member of the royal family— be it King or Queen, though it was usually King— who carried the royal blood and wasn't married into the family.

"Percy's mother married the King after Percy was born," Thalia explained. "He took Percy in as his own son, and when Percy married Rachel Elizabeth Dare he officially became part of the royal family."

"And Rachel was the girl who became the oracle?" I asked, and Thalia nodded. She was a lot less closed-lip now that Percy wasn't here.

"Technically, her and Percy never divorced," she explained. "And Percy is the only rightful heir of the throne, whether he likes it or not."

"And he chose to become a pirate." The disbelief was evident in my voice.

"According to Greek tradition, he needed to marry a suitable wife before he could step up to Kingship," Thalia said. "Percy was still deeply hurt, and instead of re-marrying he took of his crown, grabbed the nearest boat captain and jumped on the ship."

"It wasn't that easy." The words were out of my mouth almost on their own violation. "I remember something I was told. _Luke new his destiny when he let Percy on the ship._"

"And he did," Thalia said. "Someday, wife or not, Percy will have to step up to his throne. His father is passing slowly of age, and Greece is on the brink of war with Britain. The events of the past few days have made matters even worse, and we will need a strong military leader to hold us in place."

"What about Luke's destiny?" I pressed, not missing the way Thalia dodged the question. She grimaced.

"There was a prophecy," she told me. "The only way for us to win the war would be for Percy to gain them militaries absolute trust— not as a commander, but as one of them. He had to become a captain. He had to be the greatest fighter Greece had ever seen, a battle-hardened killer with a heart of metal and a deep-seated hate for the British."

"Don't you all hate the British?" I asked, and Thalia looked at me expressionlessly.

"Well, Percy does more than most," she said. "After all, they were the ones who killed his mother."

I stood still for a moment as I digested this information. Percy's mother— who would also be the Queen, then— had been killed by British soldiers. The boy had suffered, that was for sure, and there was no doubt he was against my original homeland for personal reason. I thought of what Thalia had said: _A battle-hardened warrior with a heart of metal and a deep-set hate_. Percy, at the moment, seemed to fit all of those descriptions. Because he might smile, he might laugh and drink and joke, but there was a definite shadow in his eyes.

My thought was cut off by Thalia suddenly grabbing my arm and yanking me off to the side. I shook my head urgently and looked around for a cause of her alarm and spotted a phalanx of guards marching down the street. Each of them wore shining gold armor with a silver designed etched into the metal. They were obviously on alert, not the routine sweeps that we had run across a couple of times.

"Who's that?" I whispered to Thalia as she pulled us through the knots of people.

"That's Calypso," she told me. "Of the Royal Heritage of Troy, one of Greece's most powerful cities." Her face darkened. "She wanted to marry Percy. He said no."

* * *

**What did you guys think? I wasn't too happy with this chapter, but people told me that the story is mainly Annabeth and Percy centric, so I decided to split them up to get more character development. I hope.**

**Action should pick back up in a few chapters, but until then try to bear with me. Also, I need a good suggestion for what the King should be called. Anyone?**

**REVIEW**


	12. Chapter 12

**So, I used to have a relationship. It was a really good one, with a really pretty girl. But now I don't, and instead I spend the time I spent hanging out with her reading books and wishing I could date people from books. **

**To all the people who are in a relationship, happy Valentines Day! I know this update was supposed to be on Saturday, but I wouldn't have been able to get it up for we will be in whistler at that time. For that reason, both this story and LIT will be getting updated today. Sorry for the shortness and lack of action! Next chapter hopefully, Calypso and Percy will meet. It has a big impact when Greece gets attacked. **

**Spoilers!**

* * *

_Percy_

The guard insisted on keeping his sword drawn until Annabeth was out of sight and we were off the docks. I had left Nico in charge of the Argo and was confident that he, along with the rest of the crew, would be able to guard the ship until I returned. That and the fact no one in Greece would dare to tough my ship meant that I wasn't too worried about it.

Marching across the streets of Greece with an armed phalanx of guards attracted some attention, although it wasn't the most abnormal thing to happen in the city. People began to recognize me, however, and I could hear them muttering as to why the Prince was being marched up to the Royal Court. I smiled reassuringly at them as I passed. There was no need for them to worry, nor was there need for them to know of the events that had happened in the past few days.

If this meant war, what would happen to Greece? We were strong now— perhaps stronger than we had ever been. But Britain was strong as well, and our heroes weren't what they used to be. All the great names— Achilles, Hercules, Perseus, Theseus, Odysseus— they were all dead now. There used to be a time when Greeks ruled the world. But now, looking at the guard that was escorting me, it wasn't hard to see that we were coming to an end. Greece wouldn't go quietly— oh no, we would fight to the very end. But we were too small to stand up to Britain and her allies.

Our problem, I realized, was the soldiers. They were the best warriors in the world— save the Japanese, perhaps, or a select few Knights— but they lacked what all warriors need. They lacked the motivation to fight, to give their lives for the gods. There was a time when all Greeks considered that an honor. But now, several Greeks had started to realize that Hades couldn't let every one of them into Elysium, and they would be dying for nothing. Men rise and fall like the tides of the ocean, throwing their lives away for a King they've never even met. When I looked at the foot soldiers that I knew I could kill so easily, I didn't feel respite, or fury. I felt pity for them, for they weren't great fighters. They had trained all their lives in preparation for the day when they would get sent to the underworld. And they may get sent to Elysium, they may live the rest of eternity happy, but in the end no one would remember them. No one would sit around a campfire and tell stories about them, how they lived, how they fought, how they died. It was those men that needed pity.

Often, I'm haunted by the vastness of time. The world extends beyond our reach, everlasting, ever changing. A lifetime to us is a blink of an eye for the gods. Whole civilizations rise and fall in the time it takes them to polish a sword or fix a belt. To them, mere mortals are as important as bugs on the trees, for we aren't eternally powerful. We don't live forever. We don't live to see nations rise and fall. We don't get to watch the world change.

But the gods also envy us. For the only way to fully appreciate beauty is to live with it. Everything in the world ends, even the greatest of rulers, even the tallest of trees and the oldest of whales. But the gods never die. They live on for all of time, never fully accepting the way of life for they will never know the importance. Everything is more beautiful, every second of every minute means more, when it is going to end. The colours are more vibrant, the smells stronger, the sounds louder, the sensations better, for any moment may be our last. To the gods, a human life is a snapshot in time, forever frozen, never more beautiful than it was when we lived. The gods are jealous for they will never fully appreciate that moment of beauty, the last dying breath of a happy man when he realizes that he lived life to the fullest.

"Worried?" Jason asked me as we neared the Royal Court. My father would no doubt be inside, summoned by a messenger boy and sent ahead to notify him.

"Not the slightest," I answered. "He'll be glad to see me, first and foremost. You know how he worries."

"He is your father," Jason pointed out. "It's in his nature to do that." Although we weren't related by blood, I loved him like a father and he cared for me like a son.

Finally, we reached the palace. It was a soaring, solid building, with white walls and a red shingle roof. Two squadrons of guards stood by the door. When they saw us approaching, two started forwards while the rest fell into a defensive formation.

"State your purpose," the lead guard shouted as he neared us. His sword was drawn and held in a semi-defensive stance, and I could tell he was an expert warrior. He didn't carry a shield with him, but he was fully armored and wore a plumed helmet. Few people could make the ridiculous, red-topped helmets look intimidating. This guy managed it.

"Could be trouble," Reyna murmured, and I found myself nodding in agreement. Good warriors often knew their own skill and boasted it to full ability; their ego's consuming them.

Then the warrior took off his helmet. Brown hair toppled almost down to his shoulders. The face was a few years older than mine, with a strong chin line and a days worth of stubble on his chin. Solid brown eyes and a cautious, guarded expression took me in, the eyes widening in surprise and recognition.

"Well, I'll be dammed," the man said, letting his sword drop and stepping forwards. "If it isn't Perseus Jackson, home at last."

I finally recognized him. "Stelios of Sparta," I laughed, walking to meet him. We embraced briefly, before stepping backwards and looking at each other. "How's the city going?"

"It's going," he answered. "We've got this new phalanx formation, oh man. You've got to see it Percy. Three solid lines of shields, with reaching spears and short swords and…" he trailed off, seeing the serious position of our escort. "But now's not the time. Why are you here?"

"Look," I said urgently, pulling him aside and lowering my voice. "We got a girl on one Britain's new flagship, the _Arthur_. Pretty little thing, our age, can use a sword without much trouble."

"She's British?" Stelios demanded.

"Yes," I hissed. "Keep your voice down, fool! She's not British, or I would have killed her. Blonde hair, grey eyes and I put her through the test."

"Which one?" Stelios whispered.

"All three. She passed them all. She can use a sword, she reads Greek, and she was at a temple without being burned up." I stared into his eyes, green into brown. "She's Athena, Stelios, there's no other explanation."

"And you're here why?" the young king demanded.

"The guards found her. They're trying her, and you know how Theron is about Brits. He'll have her tried in a second, and I'm sure if I'll be able to top him. I need you to help me with this, Stelios." I looked straight into his eyes. "Have I ever deceived you, cousin?"

"No," he said, his face clouded and thoughtful.

"Have I ever led you wrong?"

"No."

"Will you stay with me, Stelios?"

He barely hesitated. "Always." We clasped arms in the traditional Greek show of alliance.

"May the gods keep the wolves in your hills, Stelios."

"And the women in your beds, old friend."

_Annabeth_

Thalia led me ducking through the marketplace, glancing at the group of guards every now and then. They seemed oblivious to use, but our ducking and weaving were giving us a lot of odd looks.

"What's wrong?" I hissed has she yanked me through a couple of stalls. Thalia paused in her mad dash to stand up ad one of the stall and examine a selection of throwing knives. Taking one look at the price, she grabbed me and we dashed off again.

"Calypso hates Percy now," Thalia gasped. "And she hates his crew, as well. If she sees you, she's just as likely to kill us both."

Before I could answer this, Thalia suddenly skidded to a halt. I kept going past her, crashing into the figure that was blocking our path. My head connected with his breastplate and I stumbled backwards, taking him in. He was tall, with curly dark hair and a sword loosely held in his right hand. His eyes were dark green and met my grey ones steadily.

"What business do two ladies have running and ducking through the market place?" He asked, directing the question at Thalia. "Avoiding my sister, maybe?"

"Hector of Troy," Thalia said warmly. "What brings you here?" The man shrugged and looked around, searching for someone.

"A prince of Troy should be present to greet his Prince," he answered. "Where is Percy?"

"At the royal court," Thalia answered. She noticed me for the first time. "Sorry. Annabeth, this is Hector of Troy, one of Greece's finest warriors. Hector, this is Annabeth." He studied me with those deep green eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Annabeth," he said, sweeping a graceful bow. He studied me more carefully now. "Athena?"

"What about her?" I asked. Thalia coughed loudly beside me.

"She doesn't know yet," she cut in. "We found her on a British ship, and—"

The reaction was instantaneous. Hector's sword flickered upwards with the speed of a striking snake, flicking sideways as a feint and then stopping inches away from my chest. Half a second later, Thalia had her knives drawn and was stepping forwards.

"No!" she said. "Not like that, Hector, not like that. She fought with us in Arcadia, and she visited the temple of Ares. She can read ancient Greek on a book. Do you understand, Hector?"

The warrior hesitated, looking at me for a long second. I could feel my heart pumping and my blood rushing as he considered this. I knew that, if he chose, I would be dead in a second and no one would be able to stop him. I had seen the speed and wrist control he used possessed when he used his sword. This was a warrior to rival Percy, I knew.

Finally, he lowered his weapon and sheathed it. "Where is Percy?" He asked.

"At the Royal Court," Thalia replied. "Ready to defend her. Will you come help us? With Troy on our side, we would be able to sway the vote away from Theron." Hector considered for a long moment, looking me up and down and studying Thalia's face. He was searching for signs of dishonesty or deceit, I could tell. Finding none, he sheathed his sword.

"Bring me to Percy," he ordered. "We will find a messenger boy and send word to Stelios of Sparta. We will need all the support we can get if we are to save Miss Chase."

Linebreak

Hector led us through Greece at a quick pace, his sword held lazily in his hand. He had no entourage with him, and that was odd for a prince— even one of a city. Then I recalled his swordplay, the speed of his draw and the terrifying control he used it with, and I realized he didn't need an entourage.

"So you're Hector?" I asked him. "_The _Hector?"

"What do you mean, _the_ Hector?" He asked, laying stress on the word the same way I had. "Don't tell me they mention me in Britain, do they?"

"Of course not," I answered. "The Argo has a library. I read all about Greece before coming here, or at least everything that I could find. They need to expand some more." I heard Thalia mutter something about adding France to the list. "But _the _Hector? As in, Prince of Troy Hector?"

"The very same," he nodded, looking slightly bashful. I was impressed; the stories I had read about him, which were just now coming back to me, had painted him as an accomplished fighter and a friendly individual. They also described him as the best ruler Troy had ever seen.

"Hector, brother of Paris?" He nodded. "Hector, the tamer of horses? Hector, one of the greatest warriors ever to live?"

"Now, that last one isn't true," he interjected, his cheeks slightly red. "Compared to others… Achilles, for example, or Perseus. Odysseus was far greater a fighter than I could ever be. And, of course, there was Hercules himself, the slayer of beasts, the maker of prophecies and the ender of lives."

"I keep hearing these names," I said. "But who were they? Mortals? Demigods? Gods?"

"Demigods," Hector answered. "The finest fighters to ever live. They could slay any monster, beat any number of opponents. Warriors of today, Stelios and Jason and I, we turn the tides of battles." He met my eyes. "These fighters won wars single handedly."

"What about Percy?" I asked, bemused. "You never mentioned Percy."

"Perseus Jackson is a greater warrior than he knows," Hector said. "He has the potential to become the greatest warrior to ever live, outstripping mighty Achilles and Hercules. He could slay armies and defeat Titans, if only he could find a reason."

"A reason to what?" I asked. Hector turned back to the road and picked up his pace.

"A reason to fight," he answered. "Perhaps you could provide him with that reason?"

We carried on, winding our way up the slopes of Greece, higher and higher until I could tell we were there. We had arrived at the Royal Court. It was a marvelous building, soaring high with white pillars and grand statues of the gods at the front. It hard a gold-rimmed white marble courtyard, the center of which was dominated by a tall golden statue holding a lightning bolt to the sky. Green trees rimmed the outside, each one trimmed to perfection and exactly the same height. Flowerbeds were no doubt tended to with absolute care and perfection. Statues were polished. The ground was waxed

In the middle of it all, two fighters armed with swords were engaged in the most intense battle I had ever seen. A whirling, swirling, slashing fight, the ring of metal on metal echoing around the trees. I could see guards surrounding them, but they made no move to intervene. They probably realized that they couldn't do anything.

One of the fighters suddenly leaped into the air, driving his sword down in one of the most ferocious attacks I had ever seen. With almost bored ease, the second fighter parried off his sword and launched a kick. The first man, instead of dodging, knocked the leg aside with his arm and slashed horizontally. Half-way through the cut, he stopped, dropped low and spun around, reversing his attack in a split second.

His opponent leaped over the sword, and the duel continued. Only now did I realize that neither Thalia nor Hector seemed overtly concerned; they were chatting idly as they watched. Jason, who was standing off to the side, made no move to help. In fact, his sword was sheathed and he was totally relaxed.

Finally, in a bewildering series of moves I couldn't follow, one of the swords was sent flying into the air. This, I knew, signaled the end of the duel— if they were battling for real, the weaponless man would be dead. If they were fighting for honor, to decide who was better (which seemed more likely), there was no way the unarmed man could win.

That is, until the swordless man struck with the speed of a viper, grabbing his opponents wrist and twisting it so the blade clattered to the floor. There was another couple of seconds where all I could make out were blurs, before one of the men stepped back, the stolen sword leveled at his opponents' throat.

The first thing I realized: the armed man was Percy. The second thing I realized: the blade he was holding wasn't Riptide. That meant Percy had pulled on an impossible win. It also meant there was a fighter out there who was capable of disarming Percy. I focused on the second man. He was roughly the same height as Percy, lanky, with long brown hair and a couple days stubble on his chin and deep brown eyes. He had an honest, open complexion and the stance of an expert warrior.

"Ah," Hector said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "There's Stelios." We approached the two of them, both panting and tired. Percy's sword, as always, had reappeared magically by his side.

"Annabeth!" Percy greeted us as he neared. He nodded to Thalia, before turning to the Prince of Troy with a delighted smile. "Hector! Always a pleasure. Has Thalia debriefed you?" I didn't miss the way his eyes flickered towards me as he said it.

"Of course," he nodded. "You have the full support of troy on this matter, brother." Percy's smile widened at this.

"Excellent," he said. "Annabeth, I would like you to meet Stelios of Sparta, one of the greatest tactical advisers that Greece has ever seen. And, one of the best warriors."

"But not as great as Perseus," Stelios added, extending his right hand. I thought he was aiming to shake hands with my, but instead he clasped forearms with me quickly. I remembered seeing the motion done before by many Greeks, often accompanied by kind words and joking insults.

"My sister is here," Hector told Percy as we walked towards the court. According to the Captain, the King of Greece had been summoned and was now on his way down. To pass the time— and to see who was better— Percy and Stelios had spared.

This piece of news got reactions from Percy and Jason. Percy's mouth became a thin, straight line, his eyes narrowed and his shoulders slumped a bit. The green pools of his eyes were suddenly heavy with pain, and his jovial mood dissipated into thin air.

Jason, on the other hand, reacted with pure anger. His sky blue eyes narrowed to slits and his teeth were no doubt clenched; I could tell by the tightness of his jaw. It was a similar reaction to the one I had seen from Thalia. It was clear that the crew of the Argo hated Calypso for the pain she had caused Percy.

"Well," Jason said in a slightly clipped tone. "That means she'll be attending the trial?"

"Of course," Hector nodded. He turned to Percy. "My lord, this is a process that cannot be stopped. If you wish, I could try to talk to her about stepping down and letting one of her maids—"

"No," Percy answered, his voice determined. "I will not back down from her, Hector. If she wishes to spar words, than so be it. If she wishes to order her men to attack me, at least I have a reason to try her." There was a long moment of silence, Percy turning to face the front of our group. I caught Thalia and Jason looking at each other knowingly.

To change the subject, Hector said: "May I see your blade, Annabeth?" I unsheathed the knife and handed it to him. Percy kept looking at the front, his gaze hard, his jaw clenched. He didn't want to hear the tale of the knife again. Thankfully, Hector didn't ask for it. He just weighed the knife, testing it in his hand, before holding it up to the sunlight.

"A beautiful weapon," he concluded. "Celestial bronze, one of the rarest metals on earth. Capable of killing monsters. There was a time when that was all it was good for, you know. The Greeks never used to fight other men; they were the slayers of beasts."

"What happened?" I asked. "Why can it work on men now?"

"We scared the monsters off," Percy said from up front, his voice hard. He gave a mirthless laugh. "We men became the monsters. And the monsters, after seeing what had become of us, turned and found the nearest stairway to Tartarus."

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**So. As a reader personally, I never had a strong like for OC's, particularly because they end up becoming Mary-Sue's or completely irrelevant to the story. Don't worry, Hector and Stelios are important, and I needed to expert warriors to make everything flow. Plus, I needed someone to kill. **

**Also, special shout-out to Minako-Nikita for all the reviews he gave me! Thanks!**

**REVIEW**


	13. Chapter 13

**So, I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter, but school got a bit crazy and it wasn't flowing well, so this is what you guys are stuck with. Sorry. **

**Also, I lied a little. Percy's meeting Calypso next chapter, and it's going to be quite to confrontation. Then they go to court, people yell, swords are drawn, people are claimed... yeah. Stuff happens. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Annabeth_

I had seen the King of Britain many times— at banquets, at balls, in private chambers as a thank-you for my services. I had gotten no special recognition from him, just a general handshake and a thank you. Still, I had looked into his eyes, touched his flesh, bowed before him— something not many women could boast.

The King of Britain was loud, obnoxious and fat. He had a slight, well-groomed beard and neck-length brown hair that he wore in some kind of ponytail. The only thing he loved more than his well-cooked food was the sound of his own voice— that, and throwing expendable troops at weaker enemies until they gave in. He loved taking land, and he loved public executions where he would sit on a golden throne, held up by tens of slaves, and watch as someone else ended an (more often than not) innocent mans life.

In short, the King of Britain was a fat, lazy and spoiled man with no skill in arms and no honor to speak of. He possessed no skill in arms, nor did he want to learn any. The only way he stayed in power was through large sums of money and a strict law on the lower class.

The King of Greece was nothing like that.

When he first came down the street, flanked by only a two-guard entourage, I was shocked. Then I noticed the round shield on his back, the curved Greek sword by his side, and realized that he no doubt knew how to use them. He was a tall man— the same height as Percy, no doubt, with striking blue eyes and salt-and-pepper hair. Despite his age, he walked with a bounce in his step and a brightness to his eyes, and instead of staring down at his subjects he denied their bows and treated them as friends.

The first time I saw this, I barely registered what had happened. The King had just reached the courthouse and was starting towards us when he passed two servant tending to the bushes. Immediately, they sank to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the ground. Instead of walking straight past, the King had broken into a delighted smiled, seized the nearest man by his shoulder and dragged him to his feet. The stunned servant had barely registered what had happened before the King had pressed a gold coin into his hand, clasped forearms with the man and moved on to the second servant and repeated the procedure.

"What…" I trailed off, and Reyna sent me the first smile I had ever seen her give. I wasn't sure what to make of the dark-skinned, confident warrior who defended the docks of Greece. According to her, she was originally from Troy but had abandoned her set life as a housewife to travel into Greece and become a warrior. There were few female warriors of Greece, she said, and she was one of the first ones.

"King Pavlos isn't one to milk his title," she told me, as a joyous Percy strode forwards to greet his father. "He's a fair king, one of the best Greece has seen in years."

"He has no entourage," I said, still a bit shocked by the lack of guards surrounding the King. Again, Reyna smiled.

"And he doesn't need them. No one in Greece is against the King; the upper class respects his leadership, and the lower class worships his efforts to help them. He gives away large sums of money every year to the common workers of Greece, and because of this is surrounded by a country of loving people, each of them prepared to give their life for him."

"He sounds like a remarkable man." I shook my head in wonder. Pavlos, apparently, had none of the power-fever that consumed so many rulers once they got a taste of the throne. I looked up at him again and saw him and Percy deep in conversation. Two sets of eyes flickered up to me, and an identical frown creased two faces as the King and the Prince studied me.

"Here he comes," Hector of Troy said, as the pair started to walk towards me. My mouth went dry as they approached and I shifted uneasily under the Kings unwavering stare. His eyes held no clue as to what was going through his mind, and his expression was perfectly blank. This was a man who knew how to keep his emotions in check, a man who knew how to win over crowds and gain the trust of nations.

He came within five feet, and on pure instinct I leaned down to bow. A surprisingly firm hand caught me by the arm and prevented the movement, instead pulling me upright. I looked up in surprise and saw Pavlos standing there, a slight smile touching his aged features.

"Please, Miss Chase." His voice was strong and steady, with a rich undercurrent and a carrying tone that told me that the king had many years experience projecting his voice over loud, large rooms. "There's no need to grovel on this uncomfortable floor. I'm just a man, after all."

"B-but you're the King," I told him, still shocked at the immediate contact and patronizing words he was giving me. "You deserve a higher respect than any man could ever dream of receiving. If I had any money on me…"

"No," he smiled. "I refuse to take money from an innocent girl whom my foolish son has dragged halfway across the known world." He turned to Percy with a playful smile. "Did you not give her an allowance, son?"

"Thalia was with her," Percy replied. "Why waste my money when Thalia could pay for her?"

"My money comes from you," Thalia pointed out, and Percy grinned again.

"True. But it's still less money I'm spending, and more money you're spending. Which means extra work for you to do to make up for the loss of money."

"Or I could put an arrow through you," Thalia suggested, and Percy laughed richly. He turned towards me with his brilliant smile.

"It seems I've forgotten my manners," he smiled. "Annabeth, King Pavlos. Father, Annabeth Chase, the girl I've been telling you about."

"So I guessed," Pavlos smiled. "She's every bit as beautiful as I heard, Perseus." He winked at me. "My son has never had the best of luck when it comes to women. Perhaps now he has made the correct choice." I felt my face burning red at his words but was consoled by the fact that Percy's face was doing the same.

"Father…" Percy muttered. The old king smiled.

"Oh come now, son. When have you been shy around girls?" Despite my embarrassment, I found myself grinning at the cheerful byplay that went on between the two rulers of Greece.

Next to us, Hector of Troy suddenly stiffened and his hand shot towards his sword. He turned half away from the king and his head swept left and right over the courtyard.

"Something wrong, Hector?" Percy asked, abandoning his verbal sparring to copy the action. I noticed that without really realizing it, our small group had moved closer to the king, forcing a circle around him.

"Oh, please," he said, rolling his eyes. "Stop this ridiculous circling, please, and give me some space. Hector, what is wrong?"

"I'm not sure, your majesty," the Prince of troy answered, drawing his sword as he did. I noticed that Stelios copied the action as he shuffled over, creating a space for the King to stand between me and the Spartan leader. "A disturbance to the atmosphere, I guess. Something feels off."

"And we all know to trust your instincts," Percy murmured, scanning the area once again. There was a rustle of bushed behind him and he spun around, Riptide leaping into his hand with a slither _hiss._ The whole group was on full alert now and I reached for my dagger, determined to take some part in the fight. Thalia and Reyna were here— two of Greece's most frontal female warriors. I wanted to prove my worth.

As soon as Percy had turned his back on me, I knew he had made a fatal mistake. The slight rustling in the bushes had been a distraction, to draw his attention away from me and get his facing the other way. Now, almost in slow motion, an archer popped up, recurve bow full drawn back, and spat a razor-sharp arrow at my chest.

Percy heard the twang of the bow and pivoted again, Riptide raised over his head, the sword already a blur as it streaked through the air. His face was creased into a frown of concentration, his eyes almost a blur as he tracked the lethal projectile as it split the air, traveling for my chest. Riptide leaped forwards on an interception course, years of training coming together to save my life.

He was too slow.

Before his stroke was half underway, Pavlos's sword had literally jumped right out of its sheath and sliced the arrow clean in half. Before the shattered pieces could hit the ground, Thalia had nocked, drawn and fired an arrow at the assassin. He toppled backwards and Percy shouted out the warning:

"Attack!"

Before he was even finished, three dozen warriors poured out of the bushed on either sides of our small group and rushed us. They were heavily armored, with shields and lances, compared to our swords and clothes.

"Hector! Stelios! With me," Percy commanded. "Father, Reyna, protect Annabeth. Thalia, give 'em Hades." With that, he wielded Riptide above his head and rushed the nearest offender. The man, obviously prepared for this, cocked back his arm and threw his spear. Percy knocked it aside with Riptide, leapt into the air and drove his blade deep into the mans neck.

He was already moving towards the second attacker, Riptide carving through the air in a bewildering series of cuts, slashes and parries. His assailant dropped back under the ferocious attack, desperately using shield and sword to block Percy's strikes.

Finally, Riptide snuck above his shield and cleaved towards the mans head. At the last second, Percy twisted his wrist and slammed the flat of the blade against the helmet of him, knocking him out cold.

Beside me, Thalia was coolly picking off enemy after enemy, aiming at their legs, arms, stomach— anywhere that wouldn't kill. The would-be assassins were dropping like stones under her well-aimed assault of arrows, her hands moving in a blur as she emptied her quiver within ten seconds. It was shooting of which I had never seen before.

"Here they come," Pavlos said calmly as four fighters engaged Stelios. As the prince of Sparta fought desperately, one of them snuck passed his guard and made a break for our group of four.

"Mine, I think," Reyna announced, stepping forwards and swinging her shield around into a defensive position. Pavlos shrugged.

"Fine by me. I'm slightly worried about Stelios, though." He gestured towards the Spartan, who was slowly falling back under the assault of three seasoned warriors.

"Got it," Thalia announced, drawing her dual knives and sprinting across the ground with breathtaking speed. The first man went down before he even knew what had happened. Thalia engaged the second one, two knives moving in a blur as she spun and ducked. Faced with more than even odds now, Stelios wasted no time in taking revenge on the remaining man and knocking him out cold. Meanwhile, Reyna was holding her own under the singular attacker as the dueled to what seemed like the death.

"Who are these people?" I asked the King, gripping my knife tightly.

"Rebels, assassins, who knows?" He shrugged ruefully. "Chances are, they're hear for you, Miss Chase. It could be Calypso's work. It could be Councilman Theron's work. It could just be a rebel group."

"They're well trained," I pointed out, and he nodded.

"They chose a bad time to attack," was all he said. His gaze drifted to Percy, who had picked up a stray shield and was slamming through the group like a whirling, spinning battering ram. Hector alone out of the group was fighting a one-on-one battle, his sword held in two hands. He wasn't having an easy time, but it was clear the fight was no desperate battle for him.

Reyna had successfully dispatched of the one attacker and was turning to face three others. I stepped forwards, prepared to protect the King, but he lay a hand on my arm.

"No," he told me. "They're here for you. Allow me to deal with them."

"You're the King," I argued. "What if you fall?"

"I won't," he answered. "Besides, what good is a King if he doesn't fight his own battles?" With that, he stepped up to the nearest attacker and engaged him.

And in that moment, it became clear just whom had trained Perseus Jackson.

Pavlos's sword spun through the air in three quick strikes, each one delivered with crushing force. I noticed the way he would flick his wrist at the last instant, delivering an extra amount of power to the strike. The three fighters dropped like stones, but there was no moment of respite. More men had broken through as Percy, Hector and Stelios slowly gave ground.

I turned to face two attackers who ran at me. Using the technique Percy had shown me, I parried the first strike and swung my left hand in a wide arc, punching the man away— and not a second to late. The second fighter was on me and I was forced to duck away, spinning low and slashing at his legs. The cut bounced off his shin guards, denting them severely and causing him to grunt in pain. Using the rebound that strike gave me, I spun the other way and drove my knife up.

Unfortunately, I wasn't accustom to the Greek fighting style, nor was I used to their skill. He blocked with his shield and his sword went up, prepared to kill me.

And then he was gone, swept aside by a shield. The second man, recovering from my punch, swung at me with his sword. I raised my knife to block, but Percy beat me to it, parrying the blow easily and stepping in front of me.

"No," he said simply. The man attacked again and Percy parried easily. The back-hand cut that came later would have no doubt cut any normal opponent in half. Percy swayed easily to the side, dodging the attack and striking out with Riptide. His sword bit into the other mans shield and Percy was forced to abandon Riptide as his attacker swung a high overhand cut.

Now unarmed, he dodged two more cuts before staring at his fallen sword in dismay.

"Well, that complicates things," he said thoughtfully, rolling under another attack and springing quickly to his feet in time to duck under a thrust. I noticed that his seemingly random dodges were cleverly planned, keeping the attacker away from me.

The end, however, was inevitable. Percy was helpless, unarmed and outmatched, and the moment another assassin joined the fight he would fall. I lunged forwards desperately, aiming for the mans neck, but he sensed my presence and spun quickly, taking the blow to his shield.

With the speed of a wolf, Percy grabbed the mans head between his two arms and twisted violently, snapping his. He nodded in thanks to me, breathing heavily, and went to pick up Riptide. It was at this moment the guards of the Royal Court formed up and charged the enemy. There were twenty of them in an arrow-head formation, with more arriving by the second, and they quickly formed a circle around out group, driving from the outside while we pressed from the outside.

Suddenly, faced with one-on-one odds and caught between the two guards and our inner circles, the attackers panicked. Realizing the end was near, they leaped forwards and focused their attack on the target they had originally come for: me.

Percy and Pavlos, as if inspired by some psychic link, spun towards me in identical motions and met the first of the attackers. Riptide moving in a blur, Percy met the first attacker with practiced ease. Flicking aside the over-head strike, he swung Riptide in a lethal arc. The sword bit into the attackers chest, and he crumpled. Disengaging his blade quickly, Percy brought it swinging around to intercept a thrust aimed for his fathers back. Pavlos returned the favor by slicing the throat of Percy's opponent.

As father and son whirled in a bewildering series of thrusts, strikes and ducks, Hector engaged one of the last standing assassins. The two of them started to circle each other, swords describing small motions in the air. It was Hector who struck first, feinting with a slash, reversing the spin and driving his sword forwards as he lunged down. His opponent blocked quickly, sending Hector's sword slithering past his body. The aim was to cause Hector to lose his balance, but the Prince of Troy was an experienced warrior and kept his wits around him as the assassin lunged with an overhand cut.

Blocking with the same technique Percy often used, Hector locked blades with his opponent and spun their swords around, so his was on top. The man quickly tried to withdraw, but Hector flicked his wrist and sent the assassin's sword point-first into the ground.

Kicking it away, Hector quickly moved out of dagger range, spinning as he went and bringing his sword around. As a spectator it looked incredible, and I could only guess what it would look like to the poor man who had been disarmed: the fierce warrior of Troy, his armor glinting, the cape swinging in a wide circle and his sword catching the light as it split the air.

The point came to rest a couple of centimeters away from the frightened man's throat, lightly scraping the skin. Hector kept it there for several seconds, eyes twitching with the effort of keeping his blade steady. He seemed to be debating whether or not to drive his sword forwards.

"Stand down," Pavlos said, and the warrior did it without second thought. Three Court Guards swarmed forwards to restrain the man as Hector stepped back, breathing hard.

"The was… surprising," Percy stated. He turned towards me. "You saved my life, Annabeth. For that I must thank you."

"Anyone would have done it," I said, but he shook his head firmly.

"It takes a certain amount of courage to throw yourself at an armed warrior like you did," he stated bluntly. I was about to reply, but Pavlos cut in.

"I remember saving your life as well," he smiled. "Where's my thank-you?"

"I played a part as well," Hector piped up. "There's no way you could have taken them all alone, so really I saved your life as well."

"Me too!" Stelios blurted. I had a second to wonder how the fierce warriors of ten seconds ago had now transformed into schoolboys.

"Bugger off, the lot of you," Percy snapped irritably, producing a cloth out of his pocket and wiping Riptide with it. "You're like kids, all of you."

"I'm your father," Pavlos replied, fake indignation lacing his voice. "Don't I deserve some respect?"

"You pay more respect to your chambermaids than you do to me," Percy snorted, sheathing his sword. "Go get respect from them."

"Speaking of maids…" Thalia's voice trailed off and I followed her line of eyesight down the courtyard, where I could see Calypso and her honor guard just reaching the palace. They made straight for us.

"I can put an arrow through her throat," Thalia offered, but Percy shook her head.

"It seems someone notified her that I was here," he sighed wearily, pulling out Riptide and handing it to his father. "Here. Don't want to end up taking her head off. "He squared his shoulders and set his jaw. "Let's go talk to the… _Princess_, shall we?"

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**So, I have a question. I just closed up my other story, Lost in Time, and I was thinking of doing another Fanfic. I just can't decide what I should do. I have two great ideas, One for PJO, one for Rangers Apprentice. Which one should I do? **

**Sorry for the chapter, next one will be better :)**

**REVIEW**


	14. Chapter 14

__**Originally this was supposed to be a chapter of great revelations, but you guys knew my secret from the beginning. So Percy meets Calypso in this chapter, as I said before. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Percy_

It was a good thing that no guard lowered a weapon on me as I neared Calypso, or I probably would have killed them right there. My blood was boiling; my head was pounding, and worst of all I was high on adrenaline. The fight I had just been through made sure that my hands were still trembling and my mind wasn't fully working.

Of course, Thalia would argue that my mind was never fully working, but hey.

I neared Calypso and her honor guard, my jaw set in a firm line. We had barely communicated since her father had suggested we get married. I could still picture that day, her hopeful green eyes staring up at me through her lashes as I considered. Many men of the city had been gathered there, jostling me and telling me I would be insane to reject the offer.

But my heart wasn't there on that day. It had been laying somewhere else, shattered into a million pieces after the loss of my beloved wife, and the thought of marrying again so soon had sent a lightning bolt of fear shooting through me. What if something happened to Calypso? What if she was injured or killed, and I was once again left alone? I wasn't ready to carry that burden again, so I had run. I had run to the sandy-haired captain of the _Argo_ and jumped on board before I had a chance to look back. Next thing I new we were sailing out of the country and it was the greatest feeling I had ever experienced.

The guards in front of me parted and there she stood, as beautiful as ever. Her caramel-coloured hair fell over her face and her almond-shaped eyes regarded me coldly as I stood there. She was a good head shorter than me, dressed in flowing right robes with a golden trim and a small silver tiara that marked her as the princess of Troy.

"Percy," she said coldly, regarding me as if I were a bug she would like to step on. For a second, my voice was stuck, then I responded in kind.

"The correct form of address, Calypso, is either _Your Highness_ or _Prince Perseus_," I told her stiffly, determined not to show me nervousness. She snorted in contempt and gestured for the guards around us to leave. They did with some reluctance, backing up until they were out of earshot.

As soon as that happened, Calypso sneered at me and adjusted her position. "Prince Perseus? Are you really worthy of that title?"

"If the title doesn't suit you," I snapped, "You may call me Captain. Anything less and I may have you fined for disrespect."

"Of course… Captain," Calypso said. "I see you picked up a stray British girl, did you? Planning to break her heart as well?"

I let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Don't talk to me about heartbreaks, Calypso. Whether you like it or not, I am the Prince of Greece, and you will treat me with such due respect or I will have you removed from the country. I still hold my title; no amount of whispering or shadowy campaigns will stop that."

"You hold your position on the fact that the Oracle lives," she pointed out. "And she lives in limbo, helpless to defend herself, open for any hater to slit her throat and remove your mighty title. Would you like that…. Captain?"

Red rage flashed across my eyes and I stepped closer, hand twitching towards Riptide as I stared her down. One of her guard started forwards but halted as Thalia drew her bow.

"Lay one hand on her," I hissed, my eyes narrowed to slits. "And by the gods I will have your head cut of from your shoulders and your soul condemned for all of time, so help me." I stared into her eyes for a long moment until my breathing came back under control and I stepped down. There was a long moment of silence, before Calypso broke it.

"Luke's dead?" There was no remorse in her voice, only a cold calculating undertone.

"Shot through the eyes," I answered shortly. "As the prophecy said. He died a heroes death, and no one will say otherwise." I made it clear I was talking about her in that sentence. She shrugged.

"So you're Captain now." It was a statement, and clearly Calypso got her sources from other places. She new all of this already.

"Obviously."

"Captain of the flagship of Greece." He voice was mocking as she strode in a slow circle around me. "How does that feel, hmm? _And_ you're the Prince of Greece as well! Why, I wonder if anyone has ever had claims to such titles before."

"Keep talking and your own title may not be yours for much longer," I told her. "In fact, I may just think of stripping you down and replacing you with Annabeth, the girl we picked up." I smiled a cold smile again, glad to see the way she reared up.

"Let's get one thing straight," Calypso hissed, getting close now. I gulped at the close proximity, trying not to notice how she smelled like cinnamon. "Now that you're Captain and Prince, you lead the charges. You take the quests. The brunt of Greece's fighting will fall to. You'll be the point of the shield wall; the strongpoint of the hammerhead, the first one to board in a raid."

"Obviously," I said in a dry, flat tone. Once again, Calypso got right in my face.

"Well let me ask you this, _Prince Perseus," _She spat. "What do you fight for?"

I opened my mouth to make a snappy remark, and then closed it almost immediately. Calypso saw my blank, lost look and laughed coldly. Before I could regain my footing, she drove her point home. "You may be the greatest fighter to walk the earth. But without a reason, Percy, you'll wander aimlessly until someone kills you." She glared once more. "Without a reason, you're just another lost soul doomed to wander Asphodel for all of time."

She turned on her heel and marched away, leaving me standing there with an ashen face and a racing mind. It wasn't often that I was left speechless, but now was one of those times. Calypso turned back towards me.

"I suppose I'll be seeing you at the trial, Perseus," she called. "I hope you have a reason to argue for _that_." Then she was surrounded by guards again and lost from sight.

Linebreak

_Green mist was everywhere. It surrounded my whole body, engulfing my eyes, filling my nose, stunting my ears. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion, shapes swirling around me in a confusing blur of shapes and colours. I tried to move my limbs, but it was as if I was walking through mud. My arm cut the green smoke in slow motion. _

_Confused and disoriented, I spun in a slow circle. Sounds were entering my head in a muffled, muddled pitch of meaningless bass and the odd high-pitched whine. I felt like someone has stuffed my ears with cotton and then started striking a rock with a metal club. _

_Through the haze of green mist and confusing images, a noise cut clearly through the heavy fog: a single, carrying, high-pitched scream. I actually took a step back from the force of the noise as the mist was parted before me, blown away by the sheer velocity of that scream. And then she came into view. _

_Floating in mid-air, her back arched, red hair spilling out in a halo around her beautiful face. She wasn't looking at me, and yet I could feel her piercing eyes drilling into mine. She had always been excessively beautiful, but in that moment she looked gorgeous, suspended in the moment, perfect and suspended in the moment and absolutely timeless; as immortal as the god she was representing. _

_And then her mouth opened again and the piercing scream tore from her red lips, blasting my hair back and widening the circle she had created even further. I had to get to her. I had to. I had to get her out of here, to save her, to revive her. With that goal in my mind, I started to slog towards her, legs feeling as if they were chained to the ground. _

_Before I was halfway, the mist started to swarm around her again. She screamed, but this time it had less force to it and the mist, which had taken the form of green serpent, wasn't deterred. I pushed myself harder, dragging my legs through the mist, leaning into it, pushing with all the force I had. I needed to get to her. It was a necessity. I _had_ to. _

_I was too slow._

_When I was barely out of arms reach, the serpent lunged. I watched as she, helpless and suspended, swallowed the evil green mist, funneling it all into her mouth, swallowing it, chocking on until finally it stopped. For the first time, her gorgeous green eyes focused on me, taking in my form, seeming to imprint my figure on her mind one last time before she was overtaken. _

_And then her eyes started to glow, and I new she was gone. Brighter they became, flashing a beam of light over me, showering me in sparkling, blistering green. _

_And then the mist started to gather again. And she spoke, in a voice that was a thousand years old, a voice that had seen the rises of empires and the collapses of universes, she spoke. _

"The fallen prince," _her voice hissed, spilling into my ears, breaking the spell and clearing my vision. In a second I collapsed, covering my ears with my hands and curling into a ball as if to protect myself. _"Taken of his title, stripped of his glory, unable to stand up for himself."

"_Be silent!" I yelled in anguish. I drew my sword a bronze Gladius, but the blade melted into green mist and simply flowed into her body. _

"No one to love him," _the voice laughed. _"Ladies flock, and yet none hold his heart. He shall take the simple path. Run, Prince. Run and never look back. For you're a coward, and you won't be able to hold your place in this world. Run and grow strong, Prince, or Greece shall burn."

Linebreak

"More dreams?" Jason asked as we walked side-by-side up the steps to the Royal court. I shot him a baleful glance, absentmindedly shaking my head and trying to smooth my hair.

"If that was a joke, it was a very bad one," I told him, adjusting my armor uncomfortably. I had worn this armor since I was of age— solid silver, twisted into strips and then pressed together by Hephaestus himself so that it could withstand a stroke from any sword or axe or spear. The insides were padded with leather and cotton, and the surface was beautifully engraved with rippling designs. It was perhaps the finest armor in the world, and I wore it with pride whenever I went into battle, often spending hours afterwards beating out kinks and re-doing designs.

Right now, however, it felt as scratchy as a horse blanket infested with fleas and as heavy as the _Argo's_ treasure chest after a raid. It was most likely due to the fact that I had slept for two hours last night, and that small period had been haunted by nightmares and visions. To make maters worse, Jason, Nico and I were heading to a formal hearing at the Royal Greek Court to testify to save Annabeth's life— The Captain, The First Mate and the Second Mate of the _Argo_, added on to the combine princes of Troy and Sparta. All that together should be enough to convince the court not to try and murder Annabeth. Despite this, I was still uneasy.

Nico leaned over to me. "If the hearing goes bad, don't be surprised to see the _Argo_ ready and loaded at the dock. I've got a squad ready to delay the guards, and Frank said he's have the boat ready to sail as soon as we touched the deck."

I nodded in thanks, my mouth too dry to speak. Despite the short period of time I had known her, there was a certain gravity around her, an air of promise and potential that warned me I would be heartbroken if she died. Because of that, there was no way I would give her up to Councilman Theron and his group of fat, corrupt voters.

We wound our way up the path, Riptide bumping against my leg as I fought off sleep. I had to be fully aware if I were going to convince the neutral voters to keep Annabeth alive, and the Greek Royal House was no place to make slip-ups. I new that Thalia and Reyna were escorting Annabeth, who had elected to stay in one of the guard's house and train with the two. I was a bit uneasy with letting her out of my sight, but Reyna was a more than competent warrior and one of the best Gladius fighters in all of Greece. Thalia, of course, was a deadly opponent if I had ever seen one.

"Here we are," Nico said as we turned one last corner and arrived at the Greek house. Two guards came to escort us forwards, but I waved them off immediately and continued to march. Straightening by back, I wiped all signs of exhaustion off of my face and stared straight to the front, face hard, eyes slightly narrowed. I could hear Jason and Nico fall into line behind me in order of rank. The two guards at the door stepped aside to allow us in, and I briefly nodded in thanks.

The court was already set up, the people waiting for our arrival. Traditionally the King would walk in last, but he had chosen to arrive early to help Annabeth settle in and explain customs.

As it was, I pushed open the oak doors loudly and stepped in without invitation, boots clanking loudly on the floor as I halted dead in the doorway. It was something that had been drilled into me since I was young: whether it's a battlefield or a formal hearing, making a grand entrance grabs peoples' attention and gives you the upper hand in a situation.

Sure enough, everyone started slightly and turned towards the three of us outlined in the doorframe and cast into shadow by the light behind me. I scanned the room, nodded encouragingly to Annabeth once before settling on Theron at the opposite side. He was a plump man, with a grease of short blond hair and grey, calculating eyes. He wore a dagger on his hip and a sword over his back, but I knew that in battle he would barely last a second before being struck down.

He saw me and his eyes narrowed, a sneer coming over his features as he gestured discreetly to Annabeth, before smiling maliciously. I felt my blood surge with anger as my right hand twitched almost imperceptibly towards the pair of throwing knives on my chest. It was a fair throw— fifty meters, no more— and I was sure that I could make it. Two seconds to draw the knives and get into a position. Half a second to judge the distance and the amount of rotations I would need. Another half second to release. He wouldn't have time to dodge, not with his level of fitness. One would go through his heart, the other would go straight through his brain.

I was tempted— extremely temped— to do it right here and now, but I didn't. No sense in forcing Greece into a civil war, not with the looming threat of the British hanging over our heads. We needed to stay strong and unified if we were going to survive the impending attack.

Theron spoke first, as protocol dictated. Fop or not, he knew how to follow guidelines less he get fined. "Prince Perseus."

"Theron," I replied coolly, making my way over to the seat next to Annabeth and sitting down smoothly, keeping on hand on the hilt of my knife. I was happy to see his face flush.

"The correct for of address, My Prince, is either Lord Theron or Sir Theron," he told me stiffly. I arched an arrogant eyebrow and slouched slightly in my seat, gazing at him with an amused look.

"Is that so?" I asked. "I don't remember you being knighted…. Councilman." I smiled at the last bit, knowing how much of an insult it was without technically breaching any rules. Sure enough, his face turned a further red.

"You may address me as Lord Theron," he snapped, sitting up straight. It was Stelios who spoke up. True to his form, the Prince of Sparta was lounging with his chair tilted on two legs, flicking a dagger idly over his fingers.

"You will address the Prince as either My Lord, Your Highness or Captain," he drawled in a bored sort of voice. "You may be a lord of Troy, Theron, but he is a Prince of Greece and therefore shall be treated as such." I smiled discretely at Stelios, who nodded in acknowledgment. It was nice to know that I had someone backing me up.

Taking my seat next to Annabeth, I shot her a reassuring smile before adjusting my belt and settling comfortably. Hearings like this had a tendency to run on for hours on end, and it was best to make myself comfortable. Normally I elected to skip these formal meetings and instead take thr _Argo_ out for a week or so, but that wasn't possible now. Annabeth's life was in danger, and I had to do everything I could to protect her.

The Judge— a fair and reasonable man named Abderus— took to the pedestal and silence fell immediately. The room was packed full of Greek Nobles, warlords, Calypso and her posse, Theron and his group of followers and several Royal Guards. Hector, Stelios and ten of the most infleuncial warlords and landholders in Greece were sitting with my father a few feet away from me. The center of the court was packed with civilians and low-level landholders, who would make up the majority of the vote.

"We are gathered here today to discuss a very disturbing matter," Abderus began in a deep, carrying voice. He was a man about sixty, dressed in flowing white robes and simple gold trimmings, with a red half-cape and a traditional sword on his hip. "It has come to light that Perseus Jackson, Captain of the Argo, Son of Poseidon, Slayer of Atlas, Prince of Greece…"

"That's enough, I think," my dad said lightly, and Abderus nodded. He wasn't the slightest bit flustered.

"Perseus Jackson has brought back a British Privateer by the name of Annabeth Chase back onto Greek soil. This is a capital offense under Greek law, and under that same law any Captain that does so is forced to hand over the British and advocate his title."

"I refuse," I told him bluntly. Abderus, instead of getting mad, just smiled slightly.

"I'm afraid you can't do that, Perseus," he said gently. "The law clearly states…"

"Well then," my dad cut in. "We'll just have to change the law then, won't we?" There was an audible gasp around the courtroom as all eyes fell on my dad, who was smiling serenely and gazing at Abderus. "I am imposing a change to the law saying that if a Captain has reasonable grounds for bringing a British back to Greek land that he shall be exempt from punishment."

"This is preposterous!" Theron yelled, coming to his feet. "You can't change the law! You can't just mold the rules of Greece to your own liking, Pavlos. I will put a stop to this!"

"But he can," Hector argued, standing up smoothly. I could almost feel half the women in the room swoon as he smiled. "I agree with the King's decision and fully support him on it."

"As do I," Stelios said, coming to his feet as well. "Three of the most powerful people in Greece, Theron. What will you do?"

"You are all fools!" Theron yelled. "You have no idea the power I possess, the people I influence! I will have you all advocated from your positions and thrown onto the street if you don't stop this ridiculos meddling!"

"Mind your tongue, insolent mortal!" I suddenly bellowed, leaping to my feet and drawing Riptide with a _shrrrrink_. I leveled it at Theron's chest, and even with the distance in between us he went silent. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to, you fop? Call my father a fool one more time and so help me gods, I will bring the full force of the see crashing down on your head." He went pale white, but I didn't stop there. "If the next word that leaves your mouth isn't an apology, the last thing you will ever feel is blood cascading down your face as my sword cleaves you in half. Do you understand?"

There was a long silence in the courtroom, before Abderus broke it with a slow clapping sound. Theron jumped half a meter into the air, turning to look at the judge. He was smiling.

"Well said, Prince Perseus," he nodded, clapping again. "Well said indeed. Theron, address the king like that once more and I have no doubt he will see you banned from Greece. The rest of you, sit down. We have a hearing to finish."

Reluctantly I sat down, shooting a glare at Theron as I did. He glared back at me, before leaning over and muttering something to the man sitting next to him. Stelios caught my eye and mouthed _well done._

"The new law dictates that, in the incident of a British landing on Greek soil, the Captain who brought her must provide sufficient reasoning to do so." Abderus looked at me. "Perseus, are you able to do this?"

Suddenly, my mouth was dry. Despite the fact I had put Annabeth through all three tests that Greeks used, and those tests dictated a result that should be positive, I wasn't sure. You could never be sure with this sort of thing, and if I played it wrong it could mean the death of Annabeth.

I stood up, cleared my throat and addressed the Abderus directly. "I have reasoning."

"Really?" Theron asked from across the room. His confidence was back now, as he no doubt thought the only reason I kept Annabeth was because I thought she was pretty. I glared hard at him, before nodding to Abderus.

"Do show us, then," the judge prompted. I nodded tightly, turning to wher Annabeth was sitting and offering a silent prayer to the gods. If something was going to happen, it was going to happen now. Annabeth was looking at me expectantly, the faith in her eyes slowly melting away to confusion. The seconds stretched on, people in the room shifting uncomfortably as they waited for something to happen. It was deathly silent, although I was sure everyone could hear my heartbeat.

_Come on come on come on come on…_

My dad was standing up no, prepared to do whatever damage control he could. I felt my spirirts plummet as the wait time became a full minute, with nothing happening.

"Perseus…" Abderus began, sending a questioning glance to Pavlos, who just shrugged. Now uncertain mutterings were breaking out across the room, people leaning in, covering their lips with their hands and pointing at me. My eyes were still glued to the spot above Annabeth's head.

"Son, perhaps you should sit down…" Pavlos began.

And then it happened.

Suddenly, a dazzling grey light exploded from Annabeth's eyes, blinding everyone in the room. I was expecting it; I threw up an arm to block the glare. Jason, who had read my body language, did likewise, as did Thalia. Everyone else was literally stunned for a few seconds as the spots in their eyes slowly cleared, the flare of grey light dying down slowly and steadily. When it did, Annabeth was standing there, looking confused and slightly sick. Channeling the power of a god does that to you, I reasoned.

Sitting on her shoulder, starig at all of us as if issuing a personal challenge, was a large white owl.

Excited conversation exploded once again, but my dad stopped it in a second with a sharp cry. Everyone went silent as they focused on the King, who slowly knelt down and pressed his forehead to the ground.

I followed in suit. Next to me, I could hear Reyna doing the same, taking off her helmet as she did so. One by one, the people in the crowd knelt down and touched their head to the cold stone. I saw Hector take two strides, grab Theron by the forearm and yank him roughly down.

Pavlos spoke. "Hail, Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena."

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**I think this might be the only chapter I've written that doesn't involve a swordfight. I guess that's a good thing, although it felt kind of odd. **

**Do you guys think we can get to 400 reviews? It would mean so much to me if we did. You guys are the best fans I could ask for, and I really hope you support me on my dream to getting to 100**

**REVIEW**


	15. Chapter 15

**Two things: First of all, thank you all so so so much for the reviews last chapter. It honestly blew me away, seeing how much you guys like to read this story and care enough to review. Think we can do it again for this chapter?**

**Second: Sorry for the day late update, but we were skiing and I didn't bring my laptop with me. Did anyone else watch the Walking Dead? **

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_Annabeth_

I heard the words come out of Pavlos's mouth as if he were speaking through a long tunnel stuffed with cotton. The world seemed to be moving in slow-motion as everyone knelt before me, the King of Greece himself pressing his forehead to the ground. Thalia looked up at me an winked, but I barely noticed her. The owl on my shoulder was staring at me with giant amber eyes, tilting its head in a quizzical way.

_You're the daughter of the wisdom goddess, _it seemed to be saying. _Figure something out. Say something. Do something._

I could barely register what was happening. Me… a daughter of Athena? It couldn't be; it was impossible. I was British— raised British, taught British, bred in the very heart of the country. There was no way in Hades I was Greek.

And yet, it didn't seem too illogical. I thought about all the times I had felt comfortable in the city, the way people had spoken about my eyes, asked if I was Athena or told me that I had to be. I could read Ancient Greek; I fit in with their crew; I had adapted to the life style in less than a month and now fit in perfectly. Could it be true? Could I be a demi-god?

Theron was the first one on his feet, pointing at me with a horrified look on his face. "Demi-god!" he bellowed. "She's a demi-god, raised in Britain! What kind of conspiracy is this?" Excited babble broke out throughout the room, people turning to stare at me, some of them with hostility, others with curiosity of respect. I knew that demi-gods were highly appreciated in Greece.

"If anyone suggests this is my sons work, I shall have them cast from the highest mountain," Pavlos yelled, slamming his hand down and cutting off the babble. He started to slowly walk across the floor to Theron. "Is that what you're suggesting, Councillman? That my son is somehow conspiring against Greece?" Before Theron could answer, Pavlos continued. "Only an idiot would think that. It is known throughout the land that we do not question the word of the gods; we follow it, for we know not of their schemes that may last a hundred lifetimes, and it is not in our place to meddle. Perhaps Miss Chase has a prophecy; perhaps she is meant to be a double agent towards us. No matter the cause, she was raised in Britain and anyone who discriminates against her shall be treated as a traitor."

His eyes swept the room. "Understood?"

Before anyone could answer, a loud horn sounded throughout the city. Percy's face molded into a frown as he turned away from his father to face the city, which was spread out before him through one of the tall windows. The horn sounded again, and I could make out small shapes pouring from the houses, scrambling onto horses and running for the other side of the mountain.

"What in the world…" Reyna muttered, half-drawing her Gladius and frowning. I noticed that most of the warriors were going for their weapons as well, Percy squinting down at the scene below him.

Then a loud _boom_ echoed around the hall and there was a resounding crash, followed by the sound of rocks tumbling down. The building shook and several people lost their balance, Percy included. I had spent my whole life around ships and managed to stay up, though not as effortlessly as Thalia or Reyna.

"What in the name of Zeus's father was that?" Hector shouted, falling into a crouch and moving instinctively towards his King. It was me who answered. I know that sound; I had been around it all my life.

"It's cannon fire," I said grimly, drawing my knife as I did so. "The city's being attacked."

Linebreak

Percy was the first into action, quelling the babble in the room with a loud shout. "Order!" he bellowed. "Guards, no time to waist. Straight to to front line, may the gods be with you. Hector; I want you on the right flank. Take whatever men you can find and try to out-manuever them, but watch the canons. Thalia, go get the Argo and bring her crew around to the battle. Jason, I want you and Nico on the front lines and holding your ground. If they break into the city, we're done for. Reyna, gather as many troops as you can and take control, getting them into some sort of formation." He continued to rattle his instructions on, directing everyone in the room for a specific task. I caught a couple of wholes in his strategy but didn't say anything. Finally, he turned towards me.

"Annabeth, you're with me," he said, slinging his sheild around to hold it proudly. His green eyes were shining and his face was flushed with excitement. He was always good looking; at that moment, he could have been a god.

"And what are we doing?" I asked, taking a sheild from one of the guards and pulling on my helmet. Percy grinned.

"We're going for their leader," he told me, before turning and bolting for the door.

Greece was in chaos. Warriors were running around, rallied by their leaders. I saw at least ten troops of a dozen guards charge fighting as one unififed power, pushing back the main British troops out of the outskirts of their city. The Brits— or Arcadians, more likely— had set up a defensive position three hundred meters from the city's boundaries. I counted twenty cannons, with over a hundred privateers and twice that number of mounted knights. They were standing there, the knights relaxing and the privateers in two ranks of firing lines. I quickly picked up on their strategy: they had sent in light infantry— men armed with swords or spears, maybe a crossbow— and sent them into the ouskirts of the city. As soon as that happened, they started blastin away with their cannons to draw the Greeks out.

"They're not going to give us a chance to form up," I panted to Percy. "The cannons won't allow it. They'll charge, and our troops will be decimated."

"You underestimate the Greeks," Percy growled, spinning Riptide and slashing down the nearest Brit. We were now fighting our way through the general melee at the steps of the city, the Greeks slowly forcing the British back.

I as one Greek break formation, cut down two privateers and run for the nearest cannon. The fist firing line of fifty opened up on him, but he merely ducked behind his shield, rolled under the second volley of bullets and ran for the weapon.

The cannon fired but missed. The next second the Greek was upon the crew, cutting them down in a second before rapidly giving ground as two mounted knights charged him.

"Straight ahead!" I yelled, pointing to a group of men who had seen us and were charging. Percy narrowed his eyes and twirled his sword.

"Find their leader," he growled. "I'll deal with this." I nodded and scanned the lined of British, my eyes skipping from general. I saw one of them fall with an arrow to his throat and smiled to myself, before continuing my search. It was hard, with so many bullets flying and so many men mounted on horses. I focuses on the middle of the group, rationalizing that's where they would be.

There! Standing in the middle of the groups of knights, I could make out two armed figures. One was sitting atop a white warhorse, dressed in gleaming ceramic armor and holding a sword and shield. I could make out two more hilts over her shoulders and nodded in appreciation. The other was on a horse who was just as big, although he didn't have nearly the confidence that the other rider did. He was overweight, dressed in ceremonial golden armor and holding a jewel-embedded sword.

"Middle of the group!" I yelled to Percy, who was just finishing up with the group. "It's the King of Arcadia."

"Excellent," Percy smiled, cleaning his blade and adjusting his shield. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"I wouldn't be too sure," I countered, gulping nervously as I examined the figure on horseback.

"Something wrong?" Percy asked, meeting my eye and noticing my nervous expression. I nodded slowly.

"There's a warrior with him," I told Percy. "She on a white battlehorse, in ceramic armor. Looks like she's carrying three or more swords, plus a shield. Does that ring a bell?"

"Joan de Arc," Percy answered, his eyes narrowing to slits. "I've heard of her. You know her, I presume?"

"I met her once at a ball," I admitted. "She's a fierce warrior. Some say she can rival William Marshal in combat." It was true; just by looking at her I could tell she would give Percy a run for his money in a fair fight.

Percy was about to answer me when the cannons stopped their booming and the last of the British infantry scampered back to their lines. Percy frowned and looked over at the British army, his eyes settling in the middle. I followed his gaze.

"They want to parley?" I asked, bemused as I looked at the white flag. "Why in the world would they want to parley?"

"My guess," Percy said, sheathing Riptide and striding for the ranks of British, "Is they want a chance to kill you."

Linebreak

Percy and I marched across the field, the Greek flag bearer following behind us. Percy held his chin high, eyes straight head and face set. I followed in suit, steeling my nerves for what was going to come. Behind us, I could sense the Greeks forming lines and dividing the archers into squadrons. No matter what the reason for the parley, it had given us a chance to get into fighting formation.

On the other side of the field, Joan de Arc and the King of Arcadia were also walking forwards, both of them abandoning their horses to meet us head on. Percy held Riptide loosely in his right hand, and I noticed that Joan also had her broadsword drawn. Neither of them could use their weapons; the flag of truce was a universally recognized symbol of peace.

"King Charles," Percy said as he drew near. I glared at Joan de Arc, who smiled back at me as she leaned on her sword and surveyed Percy. The Prince of Greece took a moment to size her up, before dismissing her and focusing on the Arcadian king.

"Prince Perseus," the King greeted. "I don't believe we've met before."

"I was hoping to keep it that way," Percy answered dryly, sticking Riptide point-first into the ground and stepping back casually. It was the ultimate sign of confidence; how he was unarmed and still smiling adamantly at Joan de Arc.

"Watch your manners, boy," Charles warned, narrowing his eyes at the Prince. "You're talking to a British King."

"A British King on Greek land," Percy snorted. "You have as little power here as Artemis has love for her brother. Your men are weak; your guns are useless. Half your cannons are already disabled, and we both know that two hundred mounted knights won't stand a chance against Apollo's archers." He took a threatening step forwards. "You would be wiped out before you even got halfway to our lines."

"I didn't come here to invade your country," Charles yawned, smiling down Percy. They were both putting on shows of casualness, and Charles was far better at it than the young Prince. "I came here to make a statement."

"What kind of statement?" Percy mocked. "Not a threat, I hope."

"More of a… promise," Charles smiled. "A promise that we know where your city is now, and we can march every soldier in Britain and all of her colonies right to your front door."

"We'll be ready for you," Percy answered. "In fact, we would welcome an opportunity to crush you once and for all."

"But are you willing?" Charles asked, walking in a slow circle around Percy. I tensed, waiting for him to stab Percy in the back, but he tried nothing. "Are you ready to throw your men to their death?"

"What men?" Percy asked, letting out a scornful laugh. "The way you lot performed today, I could get the ladies knitting club out here with their stitching needles and your men would fall."

"Brave words for the boy who doesn't even want his throne," Charles said, and I could see the tightening around Percy's eyes that meant he was beyond anger now.

"Did you simply call parley so we could spar with our words, like women?" Percy asked, picking up his sword and putting up an act of dismay. "Or is their reason behind this attack."

"Let us lay out the fact in front of us," Charles suggested. "We are face in a battle of even numbers but uneven skill; I am prepared to admit that your men would overwhelm mine in a second. _But_," he said, before Percy could open his mouth. "Would they kill all of us? What say that one man escapes and brings word back to Britain? Next month, there may be three thousand of us here. Next month, perhaps twenty thousand."

"Your point?" Percy asked tightly.

"Neither of us want to fight," Charles said. "So we'll settle it in your old-fashion way. A one on one duel between the two warriors here."

"You propose we fight?" Percy snorted, sizing the king up. "I'll take out you and your petty bodyguard with just my sword."

"I never said that," Charles smiled maliciously. "I propose that my champion fights the traitor." He gestured to me, and I felt a knot of fear shoot through me. "I a one-on-one battle as they are."

"If I decline?" Percy asked, and Charles shrugged.

"My men turn and run for the hills as quickly as we can." He stepped up close. "You can't win here, Perseus."

"Perhaps not," the prince admitted. He looked at me with the look of a proud chess player who's been waiting to unveil is final move. "But she can." And then he turned and strode away, leaving me to scramble behind him.

"If we win, I expect you to let us ride home," Charles called after him.

"When we win, I expect you to let us kill your men with no complaint," Percy tossed over his shoulder as I drew level with him.

"Are you insane?" I hissed, waving my knife in front of his face. "I can't fight her with _this!_ She's a warrior, Percy! I'm not. I've barely had any training. I'll get killed; I don't know how to use the weapons of the sheild properly. Plus, she's mounted and I'm not— one charge could be the end of me, you know that right? Do you even know who that is? That is _Joan de Arc_, Percy— the greatest female warrior to ever walk the face of the earth. I am the girl who's had two weeks of training, armed with a cursed knife and a sheild that's the size of a wagon wheel!"

"Look!" Percy snapped, seizing me by the arm and turning me to face him. "What you speak is true. Go into battle thinking this things, and you shall fall on the first swing of her sword." His brilliant green eyes narrowed. "But you listen, Annabeth Chase. You are a _Greek_. You are the daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. You can face her down and smile, for every move she makes you know how to counter and flip the tables on her. Got that?" I nodded, and he smiled. "Good. We'll get you a sword and some armor, before sending you out to face her."

Linebreak

I marched across the field, keeping my head high and my sword gripped tightly in my arm. Joan de Arc was already standing there, her broadsword held loosely in one hand and her shield in the other. I could make out the twin Japanese swords on her back as I drew nearer.

Thalia's final words were ringing in my ears. "Make her swing and miss," she had told me while Percy showed me sword strikes that I could remember perfectly. "She'll tire quickly and go for the Japanese swords. When that happens, ram at her with your shield and then jab with the sword. Remember: every move can be countered to your favor."

I took a deep breath and stared at her as she smirked. The battle lines were drawing nearer and circling us, creating a fifty-foot ring for us to fight in. As protocol dictated, King Charles and Percy had bother left their swords sitting in the middle of the field we were fighting in. They now stood unarmed at the center of their respective armies.

As soon as I was within range, Joan de Arc flicked her wrist and brought her sword swinging around in a terrifying arc. I lifted my shield and met the stroke, flicking it off to one side so she tumbled forwards. Jabbing out with my sword, I was careful to remain on the balls of my feet as she dodged to the side. We started circling each other.

With a yell she swung again, bringing the sword screaming past in a horizontal slash. I danced backwards out of range, before striking overhead.

Her sword flicked up to block and the next instant was cutting down diagonally at my neck, forcing me to duck away. The next overhead cut would have cleaved me in half had I not block it with my shield, squatting on the ground.

I drove forwards, slashing sideways, but she blocked easily and hit me with a rapid series of strokes that left me stumbling. I could almost sense the smile of King Charles's face as she swung stroke after stroke, forcing me to give ground in the circle that we had created. I dodge a cut and watched as her sword bit deep into the ground, taking the opportunity to lunge at her with an over-hand strike that should have cut her head in half. Instead, she brought her shield horizontally and caught me in the ribs, blowing the breath out of me and sending me tumbling through the air to land right at Percy's feet.

I coughed blood and tried to stand up, but her foot was there stopping me. She was smiling down at her, her sword raised and her eyes malicious. I looked up at Percy's tortured face and tried to cough out an apology, saying how he should have left me on the ship for now Greece would burn and it was my entire fault. Only blood came out of my mouth. I could see her muscles tense as she prepared to cut me in half.

"Stop," Percy commanded, stepping up until he was just three feet away from Joan de Arc, his face set. "You've won the battle. The Greeks will sit here while your men run like the cowards they are; just don't kill the girl."

"The battle isn't won until she's dead," Joan sneered, gesturing with her sword. "Step aside, Perseus. I'll kill you both in one stroke, I don't care."

"Stand down," Percy said quietly. "Or let your soul rot in hell." Joan laughed and swung her sword down at me. I could barely register what happened next. Percy's hand shot forwards open-palmed and knocked the flat of the blade aside, sending it point-first into the earth. He reached over Joan's back, grabbed the short sword there and drew it with his right hand. Bracing his left hand against the back of the hilt, he drove it forwards with a sharp yell of _"Hai!"_

The ceramic armor she was wearing saved Joan's life, although I was sure I heard a rib or two crack. Percy grabbed the other sword while simultaneously kicking her away. He switched the two swords so the longer Katana was in his right hand, before dropping into a very professional-looking fighting stance.

Oh, yeah. Percy knew how to use these swords. With a yell of rage, Joan de Arc charged him, her broadsword humming through the air in a devastating circle. Percy caught it on the Katana and casually flicked it aside before flicking the short sword around with enough force to dent her shield. He struck over-hand with the Katana and she parried, but the force of the blow sent her staggering back.

Jason and Reyna helped me to my feet as Percy slowly propelled the greatest female warrior across the field, two swords moving in a blur. He seemed totally comfortable with them; for every strike he had a block, sometimes only using one sword, sometimes using both. When Joan lunged forwards with her shield intending to slam into him, he braced them diagonally in an X formation and dodged to the side, letting her slide smoothly by him.

She stumbled past and Percy ditched the swords, making a break for where Riptide was imbedded in the ground. Yanking it out of the earth, he whirled around just in time to meet Joan's attack with a smooth parry.

And that's when Joan de Arc learned what swordplay was really about.

Percy whirled and twirled with his sword, holding it in a one-handed grip as he went purely on the offensive. Joan had no time to attack; by the time she had blocked one attack the second was already on its way from the opposite direction. Percy slice backhand, denting her shield, before spinning in a massive circle, Riptide literally hissing as it split the molecules in the air.

Joan parried with her blade, but the massive force of Percy's cut snapped her cavalry sword right in half. She stumbled and fell to her knees, letting her shield drop as she glanced up at Percy. I studied his face, surprised when there was no anger there, just acknowledgment. An even larger surprise was Joan de Arc's face; it had nothing but admiration and acceptance on it. It was the look of a great warrior who knew that they had been fairly outmatched in an even fight.

"Make it quick," she gasped, holding the jagged end of her sword tightly in her hand. Percy nodded.

"You were a worthy opponent," he told her. "I'll see you're not punished in Hades." And then he brought Riptide up and a massive arc, spinning around and slashing at her neck. Joan de Arc's head flew of, landing twenty feet away with her lifeless eyes still open.

Percy stood there for a moment in the shocked silence that followed, before facing the Greek army and wielding Riptide above his head.

"CHARGE!"

_Percy_

This is what I lived for.

I could hear Charles yelling at his men to hold us back while a group of five riders took off in the opposite direction. Ten seconds later, Thalia mounted a stolen horse and galloped after them, carving her way through the battlefield. I could see Hector moving his group of elite warriors from the right flank all the way around to the back of the British, where they fell into an arrowhead formation and worked on securing any British who were thinking of deserting.

I met the first privateer sword to sword. Riptide flickered out, slicing through his pathetic weapon and cutting into his ribs. I yanked my sword free and lunged, at the same time blocking a sword strike for a mounted knight. Next second, that same night had been taken down by an arrow and the man I had been aiming for had crumpled.

It was total madness in the heart of the battle. There was no time for fancy swordplay— no spinning or slashing or dramatic stabs. It was block, parry, thrust, block, hit and hit again. I could feel the Greeks behind me crushing forwards in their lines as I wrecked havoc, slashing knights down from their horses, jabbing privateers through the chest and all the while working my way over to King Charles.

A sword whistled by my ear, missing by a few inches and instead impaling a British privateer. I wheeled around, Riptide coming up in preparation to slash down my enemy.

I froze.

He was a young knight— no older than fourteen, dressed in full armor with a giant sword and a shield to match. His visor was flipped up, enabling my to see his terrified, stricken expression when he realized he had missed a clear opportunity to kill me— and now I was going to kill him.

What did he fight for? He wasn't here for honor, that was clear. Nor was he here because he wanted to be. Maybe they had his family and were forcing him to fight. Maybe his parents were dead and the only way to eat was to join the army. Maybe every boy his age had been rounded up and forced to fight well trained Greeks because of their damn king.

I twisted my wrist and the flat of my blade slammed into the young knights' head, knocking him out. I started moving again, parrying blows, blocking strikes and sending knights to their death.

_What do you fight for?_ I wanted to ask every single one of them, but before I could they would be trampled under horse's hooves or stumbling feet. Riptide rose and fell over and over, striking down an enemy with every blow. The din of the battle seemed to be coming from a long ways away now, the clash of swords and bang of guns and neighing of horses all fading out as my strikes gradually slowed.

A knight lunged at me, his sword coming up, his eyes opened wide and his mouth even wider. He was insane with loss, probably just recovering from seeing his best friend killed in the battle, and he was looking for revenge. That made him a more deadly enemy than any Titan or god.

Riptide flashed through the air, blocking his strike before flicking back and biting into his head. I yanked my blade loose and moved again, going to slash at the unprotected back of a privateer.

And I froze.

What did he fight for? His country, perhaps? Or maybe his family? Perhaps he was an innocent man who signed up on a ship because he loved the sea and had never planned on ending up in this madness and hell of the battlefield, seconds away from being killed before he knew what had happened.

For the second time that day I halted my stroke and turned to find another opponent. A sword bounced off my shield and the offender hit the ground dead before I could even retaliate. I was now in the never heart of the battle, Greeks and Arcadians and Knights and Privateers and cutting each other down in a desperate attempt to stay alive. All of them must have stories, reasons, causes to be here, risking their life for a King they may never even meet. Soldiers threw themselves into battle without question to defend a land that they owed nothing, a King they owed less and a battle that meant as little as the flies that were gathering on the dad bodies.

Riptide whirled above my head in a large strike as I cleared space around me, toppling two Arcadians with one giant slash. And once again, I found myself wondering what they had done to get here.

Calypso's voice rang in my ears, reverberating around my head like a cursed prophecy. _What do you fight for?_

What did I fight for? My country? I let out a silent laugh at that. Greece needn't me to fight for her, not when she had thousands of other warriors to do that for her. Plus, what had Greece brought me but pain and sorrow?

My honor? Again, I laughed at the thought. There was no honor in a battle like this, a massive melee of swarming bodies and chopping blades in which you were lucky to survive. There was no honor in killing and even less in dying, so what was I planning to gain here?

Love? That one was the most ironic of all. No, no soldier ever fought for love. I glanced around, seeing the twisted faces, the bleeding men, the screaming rage, and I knew that love was not a reason to fight. For as brave as women may be, as much as they could ride with us and sail with us, the women of Greece were never on the front lines of a battle. They didn't see us _now_— in the heart of the battle, driven insane by the need to live and the need to kill. They had never swum in the pools of anguish and anger and blood that came during a fight like this.

My shield hit the ground with a hollow _thunk_, bouncing twice before rolling over and hitting the ground. Riptide followed in suit, slipped weightlessly from my hand and embedding itself point first into the ground. All around me, chaos swarmed, people died, souls were set free and history was written. And in the middle of it all I stood, weaponless, defenseless and clueless as a newborn baby.

What did I fight for?

* * *

**So, Percy gets philosophical about his life, and Annabeth almost dies. What did you guys think about the chapter? Next chapter we're actually going to get some sort of plotline coming into this thing, and I have it all planned out. **

**REVIEW**


	16. Chapter 16

**New chapter, with a plotline and everything!**

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_Annabeth_

Percy turned to the army of Greeks, his eyes alight, Riptide thrust into the air above his head. I was still slightly stunned from my fight with Joan de Arc, but before I could register the fact Percy was ordering an attack the Greeks behind me literally forced me to my feet, rushing my towards the waiting Arcadians.

I drew my sword, spun underneath a bayonet thrust and pierced the offending privateer throught the heart. Trying to ignore the fact that I many have fought with that man before, or met him at a galla. For all I knew, he could have been my commanding officer at one point, or he could have been a sixteen year old who was forced to fight.

I couldn't afford to care. A mounted knight charged me, his huge battleaxe whirling through mid-air. I brought my shield up to block, but the force of the strike knocked me off my feet and I fell to the ground. The knight circled around, lining up for another charge as he brought his axe up again. I scrambled to pull out my sword, but before the knight could get halfway a spear took him to the chest.

"Come on!" Stelios of Sparta yelled, yanking me to my feet while knocking back a privateer. I ducked under a thrust, stabbed the knight through the throat before spinning and blocking a slash to Stelios's neck.

"Where are we going?" I asked, and Stelios pointed to where I could see King Charles, surrounded by fifteen knights. The odd Greek broke through lines and attacked them, but they didn't seem to stand a chance against these elite knights.

"To kill the King," Stelios told me, his brown eyes flashing as he broke into a run. I followed him as the Prince of Sparta carved a pathway through the battlefield, striking down Arcadians left and right, knocking them aside with his shield or just mowing them clean over. I took care not to trip over the dead bodies littering the ground as I followed him.

Somehow, we made it to the back of the battle without getting killed or injured, save a cut on my thigh. I could barely feel it with the adrenaline pumping through my veins, but it would no doubt be sore in the morning.

Upon seeing us, two of the fifteen knights strode forwards calmly. Battle often left men bloody, screaming and sweating, their armor dented and their sword filthy with grime and guts. These two were in fine condition, not a dent on their armor nor a hair out of place. The one facing my drew his sword with a _shrink_ and started circling me. To my left, Stelios's opponent wasted no time in attacking the Prince, to which Stelios easily answered.

The man facing me struck, bringing his sword around in an arc. I angled my shield and let the blow slide off, sending the knight stumbling forwards. Flipping my shield over my back, I spun underneath the knight's sword arm and struck down with my shield. It was a common maneuver I had seen Percy execute, one that Jason had taught me aboard the _Argo_ while we were sailing back from Arcadia. The knight, despite his obvious skill, had allowed for himelf to get off balance, giving me the opening to slash at the back of his neck.

My sword bounced off his skin as if it were rock, and the unbreakable Celestial Bronze blade snapped in half.

The knight laughed, spinning low and cutting at my legs. I leaped over the sword cut and backed up in confusion, staring at the jagged end of my blade as my mind raced for an explanation. I found none.

"Silly girl," the knight mocked, driving me back with a flury of blows. "You think I would be stupid enough to be defeated by a Greek? I am part of the Royal Guard of Arcadia, fifteen in number. _Always_ fifteen in number. In the short time I have been strengthened by the Drink, I have fought opponents far stronger and faster than you. I can see your muscles tense before you move, sense a strike in your eyes, see the light glint off your sword before it even—"

I brought my shield around horizontally, hitting him in the head and knocking him out cold. He may have been invulnerable to cuts and stabs, but apparently his head was still hitable.

"You talk too much," I told him dryly.

_Percy_

I stood in the heart of the battle, weaponless, defenseless, stunned to the point of collapsing. Here I was, risking my life, killing numerous people, impacting lives and rewriting history in the blood of my enemies, and I had no reason to be here. What was I doing? I half hoped that someone would drive a sword through me to end my suffering and send me to Elysium, but that didn't happen.

Instead, Thalia appeared next to my, fighting with her spear and shield. Normally, the head of Medusa imprinted on the metal sent chills down my spine, but now I just stared at it with empty eyes as she cleared a space around us.

"What the Hades are you playing at?" She yelled at me, using her two knives to deflect a halberd thrust and kill the attacker. "Pick up your sword, idiot!"

I didn't answer, just continued to look at her. Why was she fighting? For glory, probably, or for her country; maybe to impress her father. Thalia had always possessed a strong sense of rightousness.

"Percy!" She stopped fighting for a moment to shake me by the shoulders. "Whatever happened to you, snap out of it _now."_

"Why?" I muttered, and Thalia's answer was cut off as a bullet took her to the thigh. She collapsed in pain and I saw the offending privateer rush forwards, drawing his thin sword and lunging for her throat.

I barely knew what was happening. In a blur, I grabbed one of Thalia's knives, caught it by the blade and threw it between the eyes of the man. He collapsed in pain and I knelt beside Thalia.

"Don't… worry about… me," she choked, blood pooling at her leg. I hurriedly stripped her jacket off of her, folded it up and pressed it to her leg. She would probably be mad for ruining her silver jacket, but right now all I could think about was stanching the bleeding.

"You're going to be okay," I told her, pressing harder as blood started to seep through. If she died because I was too stunned to fight, I would never forgive myself. "You'll be fine."

"Percy!" Thalia said, shaking me by the shoulders. Her skin was getting paler and she seemed to be fading. "Annabeth— the royal guard… She's in trouble." I looked into her electric blue eyes for a moment, trying to process what she said. Annabeth had attacked the royal guard? Why would she do that by herself? She was a good fighter, but not that good— not by a long shot. She could no doubt kill one of those knights, but not fifteen of them.

"I'll be fine," Thalia urged, gently moving my hands away from the jacket and holding it in place herself. "Go!"

I forced myself to my feet and scanned quickly, ignoring the blood of the battle and settling on the back lines, where I could make out Charles sitting on a throne and smiling. So far he had made no move to run, but I had no doubt that he had already sent messengers back to the castle. I would have to count on Hector to stop them.

In front of the King, I could see Annabeth and Stelios, each fighting a royal knight, each fighting for their life. I saw one of the Arcadian draw blood, slicing Stelios's shield arm, and I felt my blood boil.

Grabbing Riptide from the dirt, I adjusted my helmet and took off throught the battle, sword spinning in front of me.

Now, I had a reason to fight.

_Annabeth_

I blocked another thrust, the force of it sending me stumbling back and almost causing me to lose my footing. Letting a backhand strike bounce off my shield, I swung overhand and watched in dismay as the knight blocked easily.

I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this up. Twenty feet away, Stelios was holding ground solidly against the Arcadian, but the blows he landed had no effect on his opponent. The man I had knocked out was still lying there, though he seemed to be stirring. The man who had taken his spot was just as good, if not better; every cut and slice and shove was delivered with precise form and perfect execution.

My shield slipped too low and the Arcadian cut at my. His sword bounced off the rim of my shield and he stumbled forwards. Instead of stabbing him in the gut, I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him forwards past me, intending to buy myself some time to rest.

Instead, I threw the knight right into Riptide's slash.

The sword bounced right off his chest, and shock registered on Percy's face for a second. The force of the blow sent the knight stumbling backwards, although no pain registered on his face. Percy reversed the swing and slammed Riptide into the knight's helmet, cleaving the metal in half and sending him stumbling.

"Help Stelios," Percy said briefly, his green eyes alight with fury. I took off to aid the Prince of Sparta as Percy drove the Arcadian back under a flurry of blows, each one ringing off the knights sword. I arrived next to Stelios as he disarmed his opponent. Without wasting a second, Stelios dropped his sword and shield and tackled the Arcadian, driving the two of them to the ground. Stelios immediately flipped the man and twisted his arms up behind him in a painful position.

"Hold him," he ordered me, standing up and retrieving his shield as another knight attacked. Not wanting to sit around, I stripped the man of his belt and used it to loop his arms together, pulling it painfully tight before locking it in place. I stood up, drawing my knife and rolling my shield shoulder. Stelios was obviously exhausted and I joined the fight, attempting to grab the Arcadian from behind and locking an arm around his neck. He twisted around with surprising speed, his sword driving forwards into my ribs.

My armor absorbed the blow, but it sent me staggering back and no doubt cracked a rib. Stelios crashed into the man from behind, sending the two of them stumbling. The wrestled for a moment before Stelios swung around, throwing the Arcadian off balance and sending him flying.

And then Percy was by our side, panting and frowning.

"We seem to be in a slight predicament," He said dryly, frowning at the advancing Arcadian.

"Apparently," Stelios answered, holding down his opponent with a foot. "Annabeth, tie him up."

"If they charge us, we're kind of done," Percy announced, swinging Riptide and adjusting his shield. "And we can't even figure out how to kill them."

Sure enough, two more Arcadians detached from the group and rushed us. "One each?" I suggested, trying to ignore the fear that was eating at my stomach as I face down certain death. We couldn't beat these guys; their skin seemed to be completely invulnerable, and they were as skilled as Stelios when it came to fighting.

"Let me try something," Percy said, stepping in front of me and planting Riptide in the ground. Instead of taking a defensive stance he just stood there, staring down the nearest Arcadian as if he could stop the man with mind power alone. The attacker drew nearer, he sword screaming through the air and he wound up to kill Percy.

And then he disintegrated into dust, his body literally disappearing from sight. Water splashed on the ground as the second Arcadian reached us. His foot slipped out from under him and Percy struck, grabbing the man's head between his two hands and twisting violently. There was a sickening _crack _as the man's neck snapped and he fell to the ground.

Stelios stepped up to deal with the third Arcadian, deflecting his sword thrust and slamming his shield into the mans ribs. The knight doubled over in pain and I stepped in, clenched an arm tightly across his throat while he struggled. I was aware of King Charles yelling loudly and the sounds of battle fading while the Greeks slowly won control over the battle.

The man went limp in my arms and I realized that we were now surrounded by a group of Greeks. More specifically, the ten remaining knights and King Charles were surrounded by almost five hundred Greeks, all holding weapons, all looking very hostile.

"Careful," Percy spoke, forwards and gaining the attention of every Greek. The Royal Guard had fallen into a defensive circle around their king, weapons bristling. "These warriors cannot be killed, nor can they be injured. Proceed with extreme caution, brothers." It was as a unanimous decision passed between the Greeks. Most of them stepped back, while a select few stepped forwards. I saw Jason, Nico and Thalia, along with Reyna and Hector of Troy. Eight of Greece's finest warriors against ten invinicible British knights.

I had my money on the Greeks.

"Disarm them," Percy said lightly. "The subdue them. I'll take two, as will Jason." The two of them shared a confident nod.

"You'll never win!" Charles yelled defiantly, drawing his sword unsteadily. "My men are the best! My men are the strongest, the most skilled and they will crush yours like a—" Before he could finish the sentence, a golden arrow sprouted from his throat.

"What?" Michael Yew asked innocently, as every eye in the army turned towards him. "He was bugging me."

Linebreak

"This is unacceptable! British men who cannot be injured, who fight as if they were Greeks, who wield their weapons with such expertise it was almost as if they were trained in our ways! It is an outrage! It is a conspiracy against out nation, a frail attempt to crush us underfoot! There is too many coincidences for us just to sit back blame the gods for their work! We need to act now! We need to stop this trechery before it even starts! Kill the guilty parties!"

Theron's finger pointed straight at Percy's chest as hs finished his speech and the Courtroom erupted into protest. Half the people seemed convinced by his rant, and half of them were calling for his head to be held on a spit. Percy, Pavlos, Stelios and Hector were all sitting in the Royal Thrones of Greece, Percy and Pavlos in the middle, the two minor princes flanking them to either side. The Argo and her crew were sitting together, faces twisted in anger at Theron's acusation.

Ten ship crew, five hundred land owners, six thousand civilians and twenty-four Guard Captains were gathered in the courthouse, along with every Noble and Lady Greece had to offer. Calypso was sitting off to one side beside Theron, surrounded by her posse of guards. They were gathered to discuss the one matter that was on everyone's mind: The invincible British Knights.

Those in question were being held in Greece's most secure prison, chained to the walls, stripped of everything but blankets to cover themselves and surrounded by a lake of what Percy descrices as Lethe water. There was no way for them to escape.

"Are you accusing me of treason?" Percy asked, sharing a bored sort of look with Stelios. In a total breach of formality, Percy had tipped his chair back on two legs and was leaning against the wall, a carving tool in one hand and a polishing brush in the other. He was fixing his sheild, which had been bent and scarred in the battle.

"I am merely pointing out the facts!" Theron yelled over the melee of voices. "You set a Greek operative in British land and tasked her with training several of their knights in our fighting styles. Then, when the time is right, you pull her out, come back with some hash story of prochecies and fates, and expect it all to go well."

The angry voices of the Argo rose to a new crescendo after the last sentence. Jason was on his feet with his sword drawn, bellowing curses and threats at Theron. Will Solace and Michael Yew had drawn a picture of Theron and were contemplating the most painful places to stick an arrow in him without actually killing him.

"SILENCE!" Abderus roared, slamming his fist down on the wood. Talking in the room died down to a gentle murmer, which was quickly extinguished by Pavlos's glare. "We will have order in the court. Prince Perseus, you have been accused of a very serious— oh for gods sakes boy, put away your sheild and pay attention!"

Percy glanced up from where he was carving a wave pattern across the disk of metal and cocked an eyebrow.

"No," he said plainly, going back to the pattern.

"What do you mean, no?" Abderus spat, his face turning red. "You are in the middle of a formal hearing!"

"A formal hearing?" Percy chuckled scornfully. "That's not what I see, Abderus. I see a fat, lazy idiot yelling half-assed accusations in hopes that he may gain little more than a peasents wage and a bought wife."

Theron's face turned red, but Percy wasn't done.

"If we leave this ridiculous accusation and address the problem at hand, I shall pay attention. If not…" he trailed off. "I see no reason to join in."

Silence met his statement, the massive room stunned into a complete silence by the boldness of his statement. Abderus was the only one who seemed to keep his cool, and he cleared his throat loudly.

"As the prince wishes," he said calmly. "Theron, you are spouting absolute nonsense and could be fined for what you are saying. There is one very, very troubling matter at hand: today we have over five hundred witnesses say that they saw a handful of British warriors that could not be killed by sword or spear. Is this correct?" His eyes swept over the courtroom and he was met by nods all around. "Who saw them first?"

"I did." Stelios's eyes settled on me. "Annabeth and I were fighting our way to King Charles to murder him when we encountered the warrior. Despite being afraid, Miss Chase immediately engaged them." He smiled. "She's a true Greek."

"How did you survive?" Abderus asked. I was opening my mouth to answer, but Stelios beat me to it.

"Percy came and saved us," he said. "He snapped the neck of one knight and… disintegrated the other."

"Disintegrated?" Abderus was now clearly confused. All eyes swung towards Percy, who was still working on his sheild.

"I separated the water in their bodies from the rest of them," he explained as if he were talking about the weather. "It seems it had a rather drastic effect on them."

"Could you do it again?" Pavlos questioned. "For the rest of them?" Percy was already shaking his head.

"Not a hope," he answered. "Just one almost knocked me out."

"See!" Theron screeched from across the room. "Invincible men! There is only one explanation! Styx! The river Styx! A Greek brought British knights to the river Styx!"

"Oh, do shut up," Stelios snapped. Percy had finally put down his sheild, but something in Theron's speech had triggered something in my memory and my mind world with thoughts as I tried to figure out _what_. It was something about British Greeks, the battles, I was sure of it. Completely tuning out the worl around me, I tried to remember everything Percy had told me about them.

_Hate each other. _

_Two nations striving to sruch the other. _

_Clash of flags._

_One shall burn_

_Bloodiest battleground on earth._

That was it! The Plains of Modriar. But how were they important? It was where Zeus was created… by a golden string? No, he that was how he got there. I focused intently on that day, trying to fight my way through the haze of fear and adrenaline that had occupied my mind. Zeus, King of the gods, had drunk from a fresh water spring and gained the immortality and power that came from it.

That was it! The Spring of Immortality, the place that had created the gods themselves. My eyes flew open as I came to this realization, and I shot right to my feet in the middle of the court. The whole crew of the Argo, plus half the people in the courtroom, turned towards me as I choked on my own tongue in excitement.

It was the answer, I knew it. Nowhere in British literature did they ever mention anything about immortality or invincibility, never in the bible, never in the ancient scriptures of King Azran, never in the stones of the crusades. That must mean it was something to do with Greek culture, and the answer was right there.

"Do you have something to say, Miss Chase?" Abderus asked, and I nodded frantically. Percy made a gesture with his hands, and I felt my tongue loosen a bit. I knew Percy would back me up with this, and I knew he would defend me if I was wrong.

"The spring of immortality," I mumbled, before taking a deep breath and trying again. "The Spring of Immortality. That's where the British got their power."

Stunned silence met my statement. Theron was opening his mouth, but a fierce gave from Stelios and he snapped it closed again in an instant. To my surprise, most of the people in the court seemed to be at least considering this idea.

"The spring is a myth, fool," Calypso said from the other side of the room. I turned towards her quickly and faced her directly, grey into caramel.

"Hoew do you know?" I challenged, and she scoffed, tossing her hair before turning back to me arrogantly.

"It's never been seen," she smiled, as if it were obvious. "No one's ever found it, heard it, smelt it. You can't prove something that no one has ever seen."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't exist," I argued. "Has anyone ever seen your brain, Calypso?" She turned beet red and a nervous laughter rang out, but I didn't stop. "If no other explenation can be offered, then we have to use the facts we have. Jason, how many ways have you ever heard of that can make a man invincible?"

"One," he answered immediately. "Well… two, I guess. Not much is known about the Sping of Immortality, besides it appears in the ancient myth as the cause for the creation of the gods."

"So two," I affirmed, and now I turned to Nico. "Where is the river Styx located?"

"The underworld," he replied. "Anyone who wanted to bathe in the river styx would have to make it past the boatman, face off against the furies and survive the styx itself."

"Can you sense mortal beings entering the underworld?"

Again, he nodded.

"I was down there last month, and spoke with my father's messengers less than a week ago. There have been no intrusions lately."

I turned back to Abderus, spreading my arms wide. "It seems the facts are clear, sir. The British have reached the Spring of Immortality."

"The facts are less than clear," Pavlos cut in gravely. "We need more than one girls word before Greece goes to war."

"I shall speak to my father," Percy said, setting his jaw. "He will talk to me, if no one else is present." He looked at Jason. "It the _seahorse_ at the docks?"

"Of course," Jason nodded. Percy stood up and looked from Theron to Calypso.

"Plead your pathetic cases," he said briefly, sweeping out of the room with his royal cape flapping behind him. "I'll be back with the word of a god."

"What if your dad doesn't want to talk to you?" Calypso shot after him as he exited, and he stopped briefly without turning around.

"Then I'll try sacrificing a soul to him so he will." Percy turned around with a smile that reminded me of a wolf. "I heard young maidens are highly preferable." He stared at Calypso for a long second, before disappearing outside.

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**Can anyone guess what the overall theme of this story is going to be? It shouldn't be too hard after that.**

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**ps-next chapter will have Percabeth**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you guys for all the reviews you've left me. We're almost at half a thousand!**

**Sorry for typo's/OOCness. **

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_Percy_

The _Seahorse _was a sleek, nimble craft, with a single ballista loaded on to the front and two sails in the middle of the craft. Her hull was smooth, dark wood, with the traditional two eyes peeking right out over the waterline. There was no lower deck, just a slightly lowered area that you could put a sleeping bag. Five oars were mounted on each side.

I stepped into the boat and immediately the sails snapped to life and the oars started moving, turning us away from the dock and propelling us out of the bay. I stood by the ballista, my eyes fixed on the sea in front of me. I couldn't believe what had happened earlier today. Invincible British, the Fountain of Youth, Joan de Arc… it was almost to most to take in. I was ashamed of the way I had acted in battle, how I let Calypso's words get to me so easily.

I sailed until Greece was out of sight and I was fully surrounded by open seas on all sides. The sky was bright a blue, the sun sparkling down on the water and shimmering on the waves. I didn't chant or pray or call out my fathers name; I simply stood there, Riptide in my hand, my eyes fixed on the water in front of us. I knew my father would come. The gods would be as troubled by this as we were and as urgent to communicate, if not more.

I was sure my father would come because I knew something the others didn't, something they didn't teach in schools or temples. The gods, they needed us as badly as we needed them. They fed off of our prayers, they ate off of our sacrifices and they used us to do the work. As much as the gods hated it, they needed heroes to do the quests they weren't allowed to. They took care of troubles in the heavens; we handled stuff on earth.

The water around me began to ripple and churn as if a sea monster were about to surface. I stood unflinching on the deck, Riptide clenched loosely in my hands. Monsters were no trouble to me anymore. I had faced off with men far worse than anything Kronos himself could throw at me. The sea continued to lurch and swirl.

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

My fathers voice came from behind me and I felt my heart leap a little, half with joy, half with anger. He wasn't happy to see me; wasn't worried about how I'd been or how I was right now. The line he said was so cheesy I was sure he had picked it out in advance, in an attempt to show care.

"I am in your domain; I have no fears," I replied, turning to face him. He was dressed in loose sailors pants, a button up shirt and a sea-green robe covering his upper half. It was similar to the clothing I often wore.

"Why do you wish to see me?" He asked, hopping onto _seahorse's _rail and gazing out at the endless ocean. He didn't look much like a god at the moment, more a common man with a slight shimmer of blue hovering around him.

"You know why," I replied, sheathing my sword and forcing him to look at me. "Spring of Immortality. Invincible British. You're a god; you have the answers."

"Sometimes you overestimate the power of the gods," he said uneasily, but I wasn't fooled. I had been around them my whole life; I knew the power they had over our minds and how they could get a question to slip right out.

"Sometimes you overestimate my stupidity," I snapped, having no time for games. "I saw them, father, with my own eyes. My sword, the finest in the mortal world, bounced clean off their skin."

"Perhaps you hit their armor," he offered, and my eyes lit up with fire.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" I demanded hotly. "We have no time for games, father, only for action. Greece calls for blood; the prophecies call for war. My sword hums for action and my muscles beg for movement, and yet you wish to sit on a boat and talk! Our country is on the warpath, father, and there is little I can do to stop it! The mysteries of the oracle are unraveling , the tides and turning, the signs are showing and yet you suggest it is not happening because I missed a sword strike?"

"It is possible you hit their armor," Poseidon replied fiercely. "You are not invincible, Perseus, and you are able to misplace a swing."

"And you claim that British armor is able to repel a swing from Riptide?" I hold my sword incredulously. "Riptide, father! The Tainted Blade! The reaper of souls, the crusher of dreams, slayer of monsters and the bane of Kronos! Wielded by Heracles, killer of Hyperion and forged in the fires of the gods! You think British armor blocked it?"

I held his gaze for a long moment, his eyes resigned, my eyes burning. Finally he gave a long sigh and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. He thinks for a while before speaking.

"The legend says that when Zeus threw me into the Spring of Immortality, the water was tainted with salt and lost its powers," he began with a tired voice.

"But that's not true, is it?" I asked, sitting down as well. "For if it was, how did the other gods turn?" Poseidon looked at me with acknowledgment.

"It is true, you are smarter than people give you credit for. I guess it's time for me to tell you the real story; you deserve it, after all." I waited expectantly for him to begin, which he did after a minutes wait.

"The Spring of Immortality was the original birth place of all we know as earth. But the story behind the spring starts far before that. It begins with three sisters who could not get along."

"The fates?" I guessed, and he nodded solemnly.

"The fates, three girls born with extraordinary power and no idea how to use it. Do you know how long eternity is, Perseus?" I shook my head. "Every two hundred years, a bird flies to the very edge of the universe and beyond, where there is a mountain twice the size of Olympus. The bird then sharpness his beak on this mountain and flies back home. When the bird has worn the mountain down to nothing, eternity has passed." Poseidon heaved a sigh. "Well, these sisters floated for three eternities, witnessed the birth of three universes and the death of two. Over time, they grew sick of each other, as any would. Once they realized how neither of them could beat the other in a fight, they separated to different worlds and started raising armies; armies of massive size, who could march onto Olympus and crush the gods with technology not yet comprehensible by our minds. And when the time came, they marched in on each other and their armies fought."

"What happened?" I asked.

"The universe was destroyed," my dad said simply. "Obliterated, totaled, flattened, take your pick. The point is, the armies were so powerful that the universe was shattered into a million pieces. Another one was created," he said quickly, seeing the worried expression on my face. "But the fates had thrown of the balance of creation, and they had to do something to fix it lest lord Chaos punish them. As repayment, they created a planet at the center of the universe and placed a spring on unimaginable power on it, along with two immortal beings. They were tasked with making this planet the greatest one in all of the universes, not through direct control, but by weaving the strands of fate themselves." He chuckled. "You know the rest, of course. The spring of immortality was used to create the gods, and then Zeus buried it under a hundred years' worth of ground. It was only mentioned briefly in the ancient scriptures of the pre-gods, and the location was never confirmed."

"But it had to be," I argued. "The British know where it is."

"Luck?" He suggested, and seeing my look hurried on. "Although I suppose not. It was common knowledge among the titans where the spring was, as Kronos loved to drink from it."

"Atlas," I growled, realization hitting me like a punch. "That traitorous, sneaking son of a jackal."

"Atlas?" Poseidon asked, confused. "How does he tie into this?"

"We met him on the way back from Britain," I explained, all of it clicking into place now. "And we dueled. I won; he was cast into the ocean and his ship was sank."

"But some of his crew survived," Poseidon finished for me. "And seeking revenge, made their way back to Britain and told them how to overthrown us."

"And now Greece goes to war," I said softly, staring out to sea. "What should I do, father?"

"We have to go address the royal courts," Poseidon told me. "And let them know the truth about what is happening. A quest will be issued."

"But what shall we do?" I asked, forlornly kicking at the wood of the ship. "We are facing enemies was can truly not beat, father. The ancient scriptures say themselves: the only way to kill an invincible man is to become yourself invincible."

"Styx," he nodded and I took a deep breath. In order to beat the British, someone would have to take the curse of Achilles and become unbeatable. I knew who that person would be.

"Styx," I agreed. "But even one man will not be able to stand up to all the British, father. And we cannot march the armies of Greece to the spring, for the city itself is preparing for war."

"It is not in my place to say," he said. "But I can tell you this, son. Do you remember the myths of the Crusaders?" I nodded. "Perhaps you could brush up on those, then. They may to the answers you seek." He turned to leave without so much as a goodbye, walking towards the front of the boat and stepping up onto the railing. I turned away.

"One last thing," he said from behind me, and I turned to face him. "A prophecy needs to be issued, Percy."

"Not her," I begged, my eyes going wide. "You can't ask me to do that, father. Not her. Anything but her."

He didn't say anything, just dove off the side of the boat. There was no splash in the water below.

_Annabeth_

Percy stormed back into the courtroom after almost an hour, his face set in hard lines and his eyes blazing. All talking in the room died down as he strode across the floor, cape snapping behind him. He sat down in his seat, exchange a few hushed words with Pavlos and turned to face the assembled crowd.

"It is decided," he announced, his voice booming. "Upon the treason of my brother Atlas, the British have taken the Spring of Immortality and are now preparing for war against Greece. We must unite the armies of the country and prepare to hold the city."

"What of the Spring of Immortality?" Jason asked from beside me. Percy turned to face him.

"Ready the Argo," he said. "First we go to the Oracle. Then we sail for Teutland by the turn of the moon."

"Teutland?"

"Not here," Percy said, gesturing to the assembled crowd. He turned back to Stelios and his dad. "Stelios, I will be counting on you to hold the city against any British invasions that may come. Father, I will need you to help."

"Of course," Stelios nodded. "But what of Hector?"

"He will accompany us on the trip," Percy answered. I was still slightly confused, as were many people in the room. "The Argo will sail and retake the Spring of Immortality from the British. Then we shall come around to assist Greece in her war."

"So it exist, then?" Calypso called out. "The Spring of Immortality is really there?"

"For now, at least," Percy said, and her face turned into a sneer.

"What say you won't use it to become invincible?" she asked, and Percy grinned.

"I'll already be there," he replied, turning to Abderus. "It's official, sir. Greece is at war."

Linebreak

The temple was pure white, with shimmering columns and glowing walls. The floor was blindingly reflective, and when I look down I could see my grey eyes staring back at me. Compared to what I had seen so far, it wasn't a large temple; only eight columns on the front and the same on the back, perhaps fifty yards long. But it radiate pure power.

I could hear the sea lapping against the shore to one side, and the forest swaying in the wind on the other. Glancing behind me, I could make out the large mountain me had climbed to get up to the temple.

Percy, Jason, Thalia, Nico, Hector and I stepped lightly inside of the temple, glancing around. Percy's face was wrought with pure pain, his eyes moist and his jaw tighter than I had ever seen it. Not a word had been spoken to him from the moment we had started our journey to the temple of the Oracle, and the rest of us had spoken in hushed tones as if afraid of angering him.

The inside of the temple was carved with intricate drawings. I saw three sisters floating in space, earth being created, a boy with a sword facing off against a massive man in black armor, I saw Greece burning as the British ran rampant through the city. I saw Heracles mounting the Hydra, Achilles being slain and Chiron the centaur riding through tall grass. I looked farther down the walls, and more images came into focus. The Argo under full sail, sending up a spray of water that I could almost feel. Hector was carving his way through British privateers as the next picture over depicted a fleet of ships slicing through the waves.

The one after that was Percy lying lifeless on the ground, his sword clenched tightly besides him. A lightning bolt of pain laced through my head, and I doubled over gasping.

"Don't look at the pictures," Percy told me. "It's cheating." I noticed everyone else was walking with their eyes straight ahead, heads not moving, and followed in suit. I tried to ignore what the picture had been telling me, but it was hard. Percy, dead? It couldn't be true. Percy couldn't die; he was invincible.

"Through here," Percy said, his eyes clouding up and he stepped through an archway. I followed behind him to see Percy standing there, frozen in place, staring at the pedestal in the middle of the room.

Floating in mid air, dressed in a thin white gown that contrasted sharply with her bright red hair, was Percy's wife. Her face was beautiful and timeless, a pale oval with closed eyes and a peaceful expression written on her face. It was nothing like Percy's, which was covered in pain of which I had never seen before.

"Rachel," he whispered, one had reaching out, but Thalia slapped it away.

"Touch her and your mind will burn," she said sharply. Everyone else was standing near the door, their heads bowed respectfully. Percy took several deep breaths, clutching Riptide with his left hand.

"Oh Oracle of Delphi," he said, his voice shaking. "Greece is at war. Give us guidance in the path we must follow." For a second nothing happened. Then green smoke started to snake out of the girls mouth, surrounding her neck before slipping away and coating the floor of the room. It kept coming until the floor was invisible and the whole room had a faint tinge of green to it. It smelled musty and old, as if someone had opened a five hundred year old book and shoved it under my nose.

The Oracles eyes snapped open. They were bright, glowing green, and they stared at us with recognition.

The, in a voice that was a thousand years old and seemed to triple, the Oracle spoke.

_On the day of the gods the Argo shall sail_

_Bringing death and destruction, yet none shall hail._

_The armies or Greece the Captain unite_

_And strive for immortality through a bloody fight_

_The Prince of Greece shall leave his throne._

_And the power of the gods a coin shall hone._

_Commander of the dragon take the curse_

_or the legend of Greece be forever immersed _

_The crack of shot be the only sound_

_Poseidon's son lay dead on the ground_

Silence.

Complete and utter silence greeted the Oracle's words. I tried to make sense of the rods in my head, as I was sure everyone else was doing.

_On the day of the gods the Argo shall sail_. Okay, that wasn't that hard. The Argo would sail on the Summer Solstice.

_Bringing death and destruction, yet none shall hail. _That was a bit disturbing. The Argo was the most capable ship I had ever seen, and if no one was afraid of it we might have a problem.

_The armies of Greece the captain unite. _I had no doubt the Captain was Percy.

_And strive for immortality through an bloody fight. _No doubt the British had the Spring of Immortality surrounded and were prepared to die protecting it.

_The Prince of Greece leave take his throne. _That one seemed quite straight forwards.

_And the power of the gods, a coin shall hone. _That one I couldn't decipher. Maybe Thalia or Malcolm would be able to help me, or perhaps even Percy. I decided to move on.

_Commander of the dragon take the curse. _Percy was the commander of the dragon— at least, the Argo had a dragons head on the front and Percy commanded it— and the curse mentioned was no doubt the curse of Achilles.

_Or the legend of Greece be forever immersed. _No second meaning there.

_The crack of shot be the only sound. _Lots and lots of guns.

_The son of Poseidon lay dead on the ground. _I felt a chill go down my spine and turned towards Percy, who was standing with his jaw set and his hand white around Riptide's hilt.

"What do they mean by that?" I asked aloud, and every head turned towards me. "Percy being dead, I mean."

"Prophecies never mean what you think they will," Percy growled. "Chances are I'll finally be able to kill Atlas once and for all."

"But one of the pictures outside…" I said, and stopped when Percy raised one eyebrow."

"Not another word," he told me softly. "I wish not to know my fate, Annabeth, only to guess at my future. And right now, that future is clear. We ready the Argo and sail for Teutland."

"Why Teutland?" Hector asked as we exited the temple, taking special care not to glance at the drawings on either side.

"The entrance to the underworld is there," Nico supplied. "But why are we going there, Percy?"

"Did you not hear the prophecy?" Jason said. "_The Prince of Greece take the curse. _We're going to the river Styx."

"What about the rest?" I questioned as we started down the hill. "_The power of the gods a coin shall hone?_"

"I know that one," Percy said grimly. "And it's bad news. Very, very bad news."

"You're not thinking about the riders of Rome, are you?" Jason gasped, his eyes going wide. Nico and Hector looked as confused as I felt, but understanding dawned on Thalia's face, quickly replaced by horror.

"The riders of Rome?" I asked. The name sounded both cheesy and heroic.

"It's an ancient Greek myth," Percy explained. "The Romans were an extension of Greek culture who originated after the battle of King Azran. While Greece rebuilt, a group of warriors went east and sought revenge by capturing the Holy Lands of the British." I frowned; I had never heard this tail. "For years the Romans made the Holy Land their home, building a city and raising a fleet of ships. Inevitably, the British army came with their own Marine Army triple the Romans size."

"What happened then?" I asked.

"They met on the open waters, and the British started firing their cannons. Led by Alexander the Great, the Romans turned into the wind, opened sail and went full speed into the oncoming guns, prepared to die for their cause."

"They got ripped the shreds?" I guessed, and Percy shook his head.

"Before they could even enter canon range, eight ships appeared over the horizon and were on the British in a second. Warriors poured from these new ships, overtaking the flanks in seconds and turning the British guns against themselves. Once that was done, they rode in, sunk the flagship of Britain before escorting the Roman fleet back to the Holy Land."

"What does this have to do with the power of the gods?" I demanded. Greeks had a tendency to rattle on with their myths and stories, taking ages to get to the point.

"Patience," Percy smiled. "To fully understand the lesson, you must first understand the story. Short version, these mysterious warriors were all raised on shields and they feasted in Rome for two days, before meeting with the gods.

Little is known about what was said between the mysterious warriors and the Olympians, but legend has it that the leader of the group presented Athena with a silver coin. She said that the warriors were direct decendants of the gods and would appear in times of crisis for Greece, lest Athena fail to call for them."

"Using the coin," I guessed, and he nodded. "What happened then?"

"Athena lost the coin," Percy said. "Or more accurately, the coin was stolen by Arachne, goddess of Spiders." I felt a shiver go down my spine; I had always hated the eight-legged critters.

"So why has no one ever retrieved the coin?" I questioned.

"Because it is guarded closely by Arachne, who is destined to be killed by a child of Athena. Every child that has ever gone into her cavern has met their end, either by her or her champions."

"And we have to get the coin," I said, and Percy nodded in conformation.

"We have to get the coin," he agreed. "And it'll have to be you who kills Arachne."

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**I know I promised Percabeth, but it dragged on and I wasn't able to cram their scene in. Next one, I promise!**

**What did you guys think of the prophecy? Please tell me in a review, lets' see if we can reach 550.**

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	18. Chapter 18

**So this chapter is shorter, but it does include my pathetic attempts at Percabeth, which I realize I've been holding back for about seventeen chapters. **

**My bad. **

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_Annabeth_

I found Percy on the balcony of the Royal House, standing in loose trousers and a button-up shirt. In order to protect me from Theron and Calypso, I was staying at with Percy and Pavlos at the top of Greece. The room was massive, with a large circular bed, fluffy sheets and a cotton-stuffed mattress. I had two enormous windows that gave me a breath-taking view over the entire city, which had been lit up well after the sun went down with shoppers bustling to and fro and couples roaming the streets. In every one of them I saw me and Percy.

When we had gotten home from the temple, Percy had briefed his father about the Prophecy and said they were leaving for Teutland in two days. We had three weeks to prepare for the summer solstice— the day the _Argo_ would sail along with the Riders of Rome and retake the Spring of Immortality.

When Percy had repeated the last lines of the Oracles' words, Pavlos's face had been written in pain and despair. The next second it was gone and he merely nodded, agreeing with Percy that it more than likely meant Atlas would die. I could see it in his eyes, however, that he didn't believe that.

As for myself, I was doubtful if I could slay Arachne. I would have two of Greece's finest warriors by my side as I did it, but it would have to be me who squared off against the goddess herself. I was seriously doubting my ability to win, for she was immortal and all-powerful, while I was armed with a knife. Even Percy had never beaten a god in one-on-one combat.

"I'm going to die."

For a second, I didn't even recognize Percy's voice. Gone was the self-assured, confident Prince of Greece. It was replaced by the voice of the sixteen-year-old he was, and mere boy who had to where a man's armor every day and put on a brave face that could fool an entire country.

Percy's voice was scared.

He turned to face me. His normally vibrant green eyes were filled with pain and regret. His face was sunken and hollow, with bags under his eyes and wrinkles near his forehead. In the pale moonlight, his skin seemed almost translucent.

"I don't want to die," he almost whispered.

"You said it yourself," I reassured him, going to stand by his side. Almost automatically my hand slipped into his, hoping to offer him whatever comfort I could. "Prophecies always have double meanings."

He gave a humorless laugh. "_The son of Poseidon lay dead on the ground," _he quoted darkly. "I can't think of many other meanings for that."

"It could mean Atlas is going to die," I offered.

"Atlas is dead," Percy said shortly. "There's only one mortal son of Poseidon, and that is me. The prophecy is clear; I'm going to Hades."

"I thought you said that to the Greeks, death didn't matter?" He looked up at me sharply, letting go of my hand and standing up precariously on the railing. It was a long, long drop down, but Percy balanced confidently on the narrow stone railing.

"It's much different when one is faced with his own impending death," he answered. "By dying, I would be letting everyone down. Greece needs me, Annabeth, more than it has never needed a hero before. The Captain of the Dragon must take the curse, I must lead the Argo, I must guide you into the caves of Arachne for her to meet her end, I must lead us to war…" He turned to face me. "By dying, I would be letting everyone down. Greece would crumble."

"Greece can do fine without you," I said. "It's been around for thousands of years."

"But it may not be for much longer," he countered. "We are preparing for a war that has been building up for more than three centuries, and it is not clear what the outcome will be."

"And you don't believe Greece will be able to run itself without you?" I asked.

"I was merely stating the facts," Percy said. "The ancient scrolls call for a son of Poseidon to lead the country into war in times of crisis. As I am painfully aware of, there is only one son of Poseidon."

There was a long, heavy silence between us before I finally spoke.

"Why did you save me on the ship?" I finally asked, a question that had been bugging me for weeks now.

"Because you were a child of Athena," Persy said, and I rolled my eyes at him. It had been his standard answer every time I had asked.

"That's not good enough reason," I countered. "You didn't just not kill me; you worked to stop the crew from killing me, even when I stabbed you through the stomach. There has to be more of a reason."

There was a long, stretched-out paused before Percy finally spoke.

"Because I saw hope in you," he said. "I couldn't tell you were Greek; not right off the bat at least. No, I saved you because you were a sign that maybe, just maybe, change would occur in my life. Maybe I would finally find peace."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I thought that you could heal me," Percy summarized. "My life, while being short and full of action, has sometimes seemed as long as the gods. The weight on my heart is like a constant chain holding me to one place, slowing me down, keeping me up at night." He looked me square in the eye. "I thought you may be able to heal my broken heart."

I didn't think; didn't act. I just stepped forwards, closed the distance between us and kissed Percy on the mouth.

Linebreak

The _Argo_ at full sail was an impressive sight if I had ever seen one. All six of its sails billowed and snapped into smooth as we turned into the wind and surged forwards away from Greece. Extra masts swung out from the sides and sails were brought up on them as well, increasing our speed even more. If I had to guess I would say they helped with steering.

"Teutland by nightfall," Thalia said, coming up behind me and staring out to sea. I saw she looked noticeably green.

"You don't like boats?" I asked, and she grimaced.

"No offspring of Zeus likes boats," she told me. "I get used to it, after a couple of hours."

"It's an impressive design," I commented, wanting to take her mind off the pitching deck. I gestured to the eight massive sails that were pushing the boat forwards.

"It's the work of a genius," Thalia nodded. "Percy helped out a bit in the building it. It's the fastest, most maneuverable warship in the world."

"What's Teutland like?" I asked her as we moved down the deck. I fidgeted with my armor, not completely comfortable in the heavy metal chest plate. Thalia took a while before answering.

"It's a place full of magic," she finally said. "Villages of Darkers, mountains that battle each other and Barons who rule over the whole country using witch potions and large swords to retain control."

"Darkers?"

"The natives," she explained. "They're a primitive race who live in small towns, ruled over by the native Baron. They have metal weapons and tools but their huts are wooden and they've made no technological advances in the past four centuries."

"And the Barons?"

"They're a different breed all together," Thalia grimaced. "Some call them the ever-living. Others call them the deathless. They're somewhere between gods and mortals, retaining basic powers of mind-control and simple forms of magic. They age not, although they can be injured and slain for a period of time before reincarnating."

"I didn't read about them in Greek writing," I frowned. Thalia cast me a sideways look of amusement.

"It's something the British never understood, did you? Just because you have a religion doesn't mean it's the only religion out there. Your god isn't the only god in the sky, you know. The Greek gods are real; the Barons are gods in there own kind; after all I've seen and heard I'm half inclined to vouch for the Bible, too."

"But…" I trailed off. It was a concept that went against everything I had learned since I was a child, but I decided to no bring it up any more. No sense in wondering on matters I couldn't change.

"Look alive," Percy said, coming to stand next to us. He was dressed not in armour but in a loose-fitting shirt and brown pants. As protocol dictated he wore his leather Captains' hat, and Riptide dangled from his belt. I had yet to see Percy without his sword ever for a moment, and I was under the impression it magically reappeared at his side when he needed it to. "We're out of Greek waters and into the Ever-Ocean."

"I thought all waters were Greek waters," I grinned.

"Aye, you're really catching on," he smirked, the broken spirit of last night seemingly forgotten. I was willing to bet it had something to do with being under full sail in his fathers' domain.

"Are we expecting any trouble?" Thalia asked Percy. Now that we were cruising with the wind behind us and the sails billowing cleanly the crew of the _Argo_ had relaxed on the deck, shedding armor and laying out in the sun. The occasional wind nymph would whiz by at super-sonic speeds, delivering a drink to one of the crew before disappearing again. Leo was steering the _Argo_.

"No more than we're expecting rain," Percy answered, casting ab eye at the clear skies above use. He gestured to the row of loaded ballistas on the port side, tracking his finger to where the Ares kids were dressed in full armor and weaponry "But still, no harm in being sure, what say you?"

"No harm in being sure," Thalia nodded in agreement.

Linebreak

"Sails down!" Percy bellowed, striding up and down the deck of the _Argo_ as the sun touched the horizon behind us. "On your feet, you lazy loungers! Get your armor on! Ready your weapons! Six degress starboard Leo, what in the name of the gods are you thinking? Bring her around!"

The previously calm ship bustled with activity as the demi-gods prepared to reach Teutland. I slipped on my armor and made sure I had my knife and a sheild both ready for use. Thalia was dressed in her black leather armor over silver clothing, with her two hunting knives and bow at the ready. Her spear was slung over her back.

The hull of the _Argo_ hit the sand with a lurch, sending pirates stumbling. A minute later I could make out a heated argument between Percy and Leo.

"You said bring her around!" the smaller boy protested, gesturing wildly to the bewildering display of navigational instruments and steering tools that piloted the _Argo_.

"I said bring her around _to_ six degrees starboard! Not fully reverse the direction of the landing! What are you, a child of Zeus?"

Once the matter had been settled and it had been confirmed there was no lasting damage to Percy's ship, ropes were cast off the boat and onto the banks of Teutland. As usual Jason was the first off, somersaulting over the railing and landing lightly on the sand with his sword drawn. At least three dozen archers covered him as he scanned left, right and center before lowering the weapon and gesturing that it was clear.

A quarter of the crew, charged by Beckendorf, were to stay on board and guard the ship against anyone who would try to take her. Massive chains were dug into the sand and nearby rocks, securing the _Argo_ from any storms that would sweep in and also making it very, very difficult for anyone to take off with her.

"Heads up and weapons ready, boys," Percy warned as the rest of the crew formed up. He was in the saddle of his faithful Pegasus, as were Jason, Nico and several of the _Argo's_ most senior cabin leaders. I was astride the white mare Percy had given me so long ago in Arcadia. "We're in enemy territory yet."

"Which way?" Will Solace asked. He was the oldest and most experienced child of Apollo onboard the _Argo, _seeing as his brother Michael Yew had stayed in Greece to protect the city. Percy looked over to Nico.

"I'm not entirely sure," the son of Hades said uneasily. "The entrance moves around a lot, and whenever I use it I just kind of sink right through the ground. If I had to guess…" he trailed off suddenly as there was a change in the atmosphere around the camp. I sensed it was well, a drop in air pressure all around us. Jason frowned and touched the hilt of his sword.

A wave of fire exploded from just outside our cone of vision, from where the light of the _Argo_ faded out and the darkness began. Faster than I would have believed possible Jason dove off of Tempest, rolled once and came into a kneeling position with his arms cross, directly in between the assembled crew and the flames. He yelled and a blast of wind seemed to radiate outwards from his body, shoving the flames backwards and extinguishing them. Jason slumped sideways, blood trickling out the corner of his mouth as a figure stepped out of the dark, his eyes burning red with flames. He was seven feet tall, dressed in black armor and a horned helmet that covered his face. In his hand was a massive, double-bladed sword that he held with ease.

Percy slipped from his saddle, his eyes locked on the warrior as two Apollo kids rushed forwards and dragged Jason back into the ranks of Greeks. Holding Riptide loosely in one hand and his shield in the other, Percy studied the giant warrior with a professional eye.

Then he spoke: "Phalanx three."

As if they had spent their whole lives training for this one moment, the Greeks formed up into four solid lines of linked shields and bristling spears, plumed helmets just showing over their round shields. Those on horseback quickly moved into an arrowhead formation, with Nico at the point and me and Thalia flanking him.

"Your name." It wasn't a request. Percy took two steps forwards and stared at the massive warrior, his sword gleaming in the half-light. The man let out a low, throaty chuckle, his voice sounding oddly metallic.

"I am Thorax," he proclaimed, spinning his sword dramatically before stabbing it into the ground hard. "Master of fire, wielder of the mighty Forger and guardian of Teutland." He picked up his sword and leveled one blade at Percy, the other pressed against his arm. "And if you wish to find the Underworld, Greek, you'll have to go through me."

Percy studied him for a long moment, casting a look back at the assembled Greeks behind him. Finally, with a long drawn sigh, he spun Riptide once and dropped into a crouch, sword forwards and shield ready.

"So be it," he said.

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**Sorry to leave it like that, but the last couple of weeks have been kinda hecktick. I re-injured my back which took me out of writing for a few days. Then when I did get back I diverted most of my writing to my novel because it was bout to break the 100 page mark. **

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	19. Chapter 19

**So this update is a week early, but I was able to get it down and figured I may as well post it for you guys. I'm going to try to keep up a once-a-week updating schedule from now on for this story. **

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They met in a shower of sparks on the beach. Riptide hissed through the air as Percy leaped up, spinning in a massive circle and bringing his sword towards Thorax's neck. The massive warrior blocked, his silver sword matching Riptide perfectly.

The other half of his sword snapped out and Percy was forced to retreat, blocking the slash off his shield and disengaging. The deathless attacked him mercilessly, massive weapon humming through the air in two arcs of light. Each strike sent Percy stumbling back a step; Thorax was at least a foor taller than Percy and his massive sword was equally deadly at both sides. He had no shield, nor did he have need for one; his double-bladed weapon was an impenetrable defense. For any other warrior it would be a hopeless battle.

The Prince of Greece, however, refused to be beaten. Thorax swept sideways at him and Percy caught it on his shield, the sword sticking there. With a flick of his wrist the massive warrior sent the other side of his sword cutting at Percy's waist, but the son of Poseidon deflected it high off of Riptide. Using the tiny window that he had created he leaped forwards, bring the hilt of Riptide up and slamming it into the face shield of Thorax.

The giant stumbled back with a grunt of pain, shaking his head and discarding on the damaged helmet. Underneath he had pale skin and long, stringy black hair that hung down into his red eyes. He let out a roar of anger and lunged at Percy.

"You dare look upon my face?" He demanded, meeting the Prince head on. The traded a series of lightning-fast blows, swords clanging together too fast for the eye to follow. I felt the phalanx shift uneasily behind me as they once again so their Captain risking his life against an oponnent who was much larger than he.

Percy ducked under the dual swords and brought his elbow back sharply, hitting Thorax in the back of the neck. The giant stumbled forwards and roared, slashing behind him randomly. Percy was just able to deflect the blow.

"Insolent mortal!" Thorax bellowed, a ball of flame forming in his hand. "You have no right to stand against me! I am a deathless! I am a god!" With that, he hurled the flame at Percy. Instead of ducking and rolling for cover, Percy held up his hand and closed his eyes. A wave of water roared into existence and extinguished the flames.

"I'm no mortal," Percy said, his voice low. He twirled Riptide and started circling Thorax, who suddenly looked very uneasy. "I'm a son of Poseidon, god of the seas. I'm a demigod, forged in the fires of Greece at the heart of battle. I know your land, and I know the limits of your powers. I'm headed on a quest to save my country and shall not hesitate to condemn anyone who stands in my way." He leveled his blade at the massive Baron. "And by the time I'm done, fire-lord, the people of Teutland will know that even a deathless could bleed." He leaped forwards, sword whistling as the distance between them closed. I gripped my knife tightly as the two went toe-to-toe, neither willing to back down. If Percy lost this fight I didn't know what would happen.

"He'll win," Thalia muttered beside me, probably for her own benefit. "He has to win."

Percy cut overhand at Thorax, Riptide hissing through the air. The Baron blocked with his double-edged sword and Percy struck, swinging his shield in a horizontal line. The heavy metal disk, three feet in diameter and weighing roughly thirty pounds smacked Thorax in the temple, sending him stumbling.

Percy spun and brought Riptide around in a massive arc, decapitating Thorax and sending his head toppling through the air. The Prince of Greece stood there for a few moments, panting heavily and leaning on his sword. He turned towards the assembled warriors, who hadn't moved an inch from their ready position. The worry was gone from their faces; now it was something close to letdown.

"I'm sorry," he panted. "Were you expecting something more dramatic?"

Linebreak

When Thalia had told me that Teutland was a place of magic, I thought she had been joking. Magic was a thing from fairytales. Even Greece, worshiper of the gods and home to demigods, was a very normal city with a few… minor differences. When Thalia told me of the mountains that fought each other and the Barons who were somewhere between god and mortal but not quite a demigod either, I thought she had been over-exaggerating.

In fact, she had been holding back.

Quomine was the village that we had rested in. The sun was just sinking from the horizon when I finished cleaning all my things and pitching my tent. In the distance, I heard a resounding boom and turned to see two monstrous shapes fighting on the horizon, pummeling away at each other with fists the size of the _Argo_. The mountains did actually battle each other.

Opposite to the battling mountains— which, according to Jason, were called the Hureou range— was the forest of Pixall. The trees were impenetrably thick except for one pathway that carved its way through the towering trunks, the sky shrouded by interweaving branches and the ground covered in flowers of all colours. Now that it was darkening I could make out thousands of shapes flitting in and out of the dark trees.

"They're the flowers," Percy said, sinking down beside me. In the receding light his skin seemed to shine copper, and I was reminded of our kiss. I felt my face flush. "At night, they take to the air and flit around like butterflies. It is said that on the full moon they come out from the forest and form a flying carpet for any to ride." He cast an eye at the sky, where a crescent moon was taking shape. Percy chuckled. "Some day, I will have to prove that theory."

"It's a wonderful place," I almost whispered. It was true. Teutland was beautiful beyond measure, full of rolling hills and towering peaks and opened fields and soaring trees.

"It's one of the few left in the world," Percy told me. "The British do not invade due to fear of the Barons. The Barons do not extend outwards to other countries; they are quite content with the land they have. For now, Teutland will remain untouched."

"And the Darkers?" I asked. We were staying in a Darker village, although I had yet to see head nor toe of the mysterious village people. Percy had gone briefly in to one hut, conversed for two minutes, come back out to grab a bag of gold before disappearing through the low door again. A second later he had popped out and said we could stay in Quomine as long as we wished.

"They are fully content with their way of life, although the Barons terrify them and force them to pay a monthly task." He paused for a second. "Actually, I didn't come here to talk about that. I came here to talk about two nights ago." I blushed again, looking down.

"Oh, yeah…" I trailed off. "Um, sorry, it was kind of on-the-moment…"

"There's no need to apologize," Percy said. "It was one of the more enjoyable moments of that week. I'm here to tell you that it can't happen again."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, confused by the change in his demenour. His smile was gone, replaced by a look of resignation and determination.

"What I mean is that you're an amazing girl," he told me, looking at the forest of Pixall and not meeting my eyes. "One of the greatest I have ever met. Your heart is pure; I cannot be the one to taint it."

"You won't be," I insisted. I had a speech mentally prepared for him, but he cut me off.

"But I will," he said with surprising ferocity. "I am going to die, Annabeth, and no power on heaven or earth can stop that. If I allow you to fall in love with me my death will have terrible concequences."

"You went through it," I reminded him.

"Which is exactly the reason I cannot let you," Percy snapped, his face written in pain. "Every day of every week of every month, all around the year, year after year I have to wear a mask. I have submerged myself in training and fighting to drown out the sorrow, but it always comes back." His eyes softened, as did his tone. "Do not become like me, Annabeth. Don't try to be a hero as I did; heroes never have happy endings."

And then he left.

_Percy_

The Darkers made an appearance around dinnertime. In absence of the wind nymphs, the Demeter cabin had whipped together a feast of toasted flatbread, simmering soup and a vegetable salad. Entranced by the smell of warm, delicious food, the Darkers slowly emerged from their huts.

They were darker skinned, not quite so as those who lived in the desert but almost. Most of them had dark hair and dark eyes with a few exceptions and they were dressed in rough hemp clothing. The Darkers lived a hard life, I knew, but they had a beautiful country to live in and appreciated it greatly. Part of the reason they had made no technological advances was fear of disrupting the natural environment.

My head was spinning with thoughts of Annabeth. I had done the right thing, I knew, but I wanted desperately to hold her in my arms, kiss her on the lips and call her mine. She could drown out the pain I had been hiding for years.

But no, I wouldn't allow myself to do that to her. I was going to die, that the prophecy had dictated, and I knew better than most how useless it was to fight prophecy. Instead I would try to face death with open arms and high expectation.

The chief Darker approached me, a taller man dressed in leather armor with a shaved head and a metal dagger by his side. Like most Darkers he had a bow slung over his back.

"Perseus," he nodded to me, taking a seat. "We met briefly. My name is—"

"Niz'tkan," I finished for him, and he nodded. "My thanks, chief, for letting us stay in your village. We will not be here long, that I promise."

"You Greeks are well disciplined," he said. "As long as they don't disrupt the harvest, leave the land untarnished and commit no crimes Quomine will welcome you with open arms."

"We are looking for something specific," I told him. "The entrance to the Underworld. Have you seen it?" He looked at me blankly, so I elaborated. "It would be an outcropping of rocks, two or three of them all leaning against each other. There would be a… a negative vibe around the place, a feeling on damnation and misery. Almost as if it was sucking all the joy from you." I looked at him hopefully and his eyes widened with recognition.

"Rocks of death!" he said, nodding. "They move from place to place, yes? Pure black rock with jagged edges, yes?"

"Yes," I nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement dance through me. "You know where they are?"

"Just last week, rocks of death appear in thin air not forty miles from our village. I can assign a guide to take you there."

"That would appreciated," I said. "I can, of course, pay the guide for his—" Niz'tkan didn't let me finish, instead barked off a string of sentences in the native tongue of the Darkers. From where a large group of them were eating, one boy stood up tentatively, left his bowl on the ground and made his way over to us. I studied him as he walked. Like Niz'tkan he was wearing boiled leather armor that looked this enough the repel a crossbow bolt from fifty yards— no easy feat. Over his back was a bow and arrow, along with what looked like a long wooden staff. It was polished and cut to perfection with two bulbous ends that were capped in steel. Dangling from his side was a metal short sword. Knowing the Darkers I was able to guess that he had one of their classic Darker shields in his home, wherever that may be.

"You call?" he asked Niz'tkan, who turned to me.

"This is Hazam," he said. "One of our best scouts. He knows where rocks of death are; he will take you there."

"Rocks of death?" Hazam asked, looking from me to the assembled Greeks and pursing his lips. Some of the friendlier ones— the Aphrodite and Demeter kids— were striking up conversations with the Darkers, trying to break the barrier between the two. "Long hike. Very dangerous. Barons castle right in way. No way you can take all your men." He looked at me once again. "Greek?"

"The one and only," I said, offering my hand. "Perseus Jackson, Prince of Greece, and your service." At this, his eyes went wide.

"Perseus Jackson?" He stared at me with newfound respect. "The Dawn Rider?" I winced and gave a long sigh.

"You know, they over-exaggerated with those myths…" I protested, but he cut me off with a violent headshake.

"I was there!" he exclaimed, placing a hand on his chest. "I saw with my own eyes. You are Dawn Rider, bane of the Barons. I will take you to rocks of death, and in return you will teach me to fight?"

I was never particularly good at giving lessons when it came to fighting— or anything, for that matter— but Hazam was looking at me with such expectation that there was no way to refuse. "Aye, I'll teach you how to fight," I agreed and a wide smile split his face. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow, break of day," he said. "You can take ten men at most. Rest will stay here, guard Quomine against Barons."

"Aye, they'll do more than that," I told him with a glint in my eye as I surveyed the assembled Greeks. "Anything dares to touch this village, I'll make sure my men tear it to pieces."

_Annabeth_

"What's this Dawn Rider business?" I asked Hazam as we settled in for the night. The young Darker was fixing his shield, which Percy had accidentally snapped during their fighting lessons. The Darker shields were something new all together: it had two pieces of sturdy hardwood arranged in a cross shape in the middle, notched at the meeting point so they fit smoothly into each other. Stretched between the two wooden poles was a tough piece of boiled leather at least an inch thick, tied on with sturdy cord. The back was reinforced with hay that was stuffed in tightly and would no doubt play a major part in stopped an arrow or maybe even a spear.

Despite all this, Percy had accidentally struck with Riptide and not noticed until the last second. He had been able to stop the strike but only so much, so that the blade of Riptide bit into the rim of the leather and left an inch-long cut. Hazam was busily patching it up when I asked him.

"What business?" He questioned, confused. I held back a sigh, remembering that his English wasn't the greatest. He was a quick learner however and was catching on nicely.

"Why do you call Percy the Dawn Rider?" I rephrased, gesturing to where the Captain was in deep conversation with Nico. His rejection still stuck in my throat, but he his reason was sound and I didn't want to add any pressure on him, not with all he had been through and was promised.

"Oh," he said, putting down his shield and glancing at me. His eyes were dark brown and very serious. "Two years ago I lived in a village farther south. Farmland was not as fertile as Quomine and rocks sometimes came tumbling down from Hureou range, crushing all villages crops. One year my village miss annual Baron payment two month in a row. Baron get mad, gather his friends from nearby and prepare to destroy village."

"Just for missing the annual payment?" I ask, my eyes wide. He nodded gravely.

"Barons have little patience. Five of them attack at daybreak, as is traditional. Village gathers warriors, but everyone knows it won't be enough. Just as Barons about to attack, your Captain appear over horizon on black horse that fly. Barons don't see him until it's too late. Dawn Rider cut throw two knives, kill two Barons just like that." Hazam snapped his fingers to emphasize the point. "The third one turn to face him and Dawn Rider cut his head of with sword, turn to the fourth one. No warrior has ever fought two Barons at once. Dawn Rider cuts fourth one down, fights with second for a minute before killing him, too."

"And then?" I asked, my voice a little more than a whisper. In the dark of the night I could almost picture the scene, Percy charging in with no fear and saving a village he had never seen before.

"Dawn Rider disappear into the sky," Hazam said. "He doesn't ask for any tribute, doesn't take credit for his actions, just goes. He is greatest warrior to ever walk the earth."

"He is," I agreed. As if sensing my stare Percy looked up at me, smiled and went back to his conversation with Nico.

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**So, I'll make a deal with you guys. If we get 600 reviews (38) then I'll update on Wednesday and Saturday with two different chapters. Think you guys can do it?**

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	20. Chapter 20

__**You guys are the best. We hit six hundred, so here's a new chapter for you guys— granted it's a bit shorter, but a chapter's a chapter, right?**

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_Percy_

"Trouble?" I asked, pulling Blackjack to a stop and moving level with Hazam. The young Darker was sitting up in his saddle, scanning back and forth with an alert eye.

"Maybe," he said, letting his bow slip to his hands. "Baron castle not far from here, may be ambush waiting."

"That's where they would do it," I said, pointing with Riptide fifty meters down the track where there was a thick section of underbrush on one side, so tightly packed that we couldn't see into it. The other side of the path was strewn with sharp rocks and irregular boulders— impossible to ride a horse across. "Why would the Barons ambush us?"

"Who knows?" Hazam shrugged, studying the path with a critical eye. "Take supply, make a point, for fun? Baron have no regard of Darker life."

"Yeah, we've realized that," I grimaced. "Well, we continue on the way we were going and hope—" I never got a chance to finish. A figure popped out of the brush behind us, cocked back an arm and hurled a spear right at my throat. I moved to draw Riptide while simultaneously rolling sideways out of the saddle, but I knew I would be too slow.

"Percy!"

Annabeth slammed into me from the side, bringing her round shield up to block the throw. The tip of the spear bounced off the rim of her shield and buried itself in her side as we both hit the ground.

"Annabeth!" I yelled, seeing the heavy iron tip sticking out of her armor. The metal had taken the brunt of the force but I could see that the spear had punched through and broken skin as well as most likely breaking a rib.

"Ambush!" Thalia yelled, swinging her bow down and nocking an arrow. Her and Hazam fired simultaneously, both arrows taking my would-be-kill in the chest. He toppled down. "For a wall! Shield up!" Even as she spoke more and more warriors were emerging from the trees around us. Hazam had been right— it was an ambush, but they wouldn't get us in the spot they wanted. The Greeks responded instantly, hitting the ground and forming a circular shield wall around Annabeth and me. She looked up at me with slightly fuzzy eyes.

"I got hit," she murmured, and I nodded frantically. "Sorry, Perce. Shoulda trained me better."

"You did great," I told her, gently stroking her cheek. "You saved my life. You're going to be okay; it's barely a flesh wound." She smiled, but I could tell she wasn't all there.

"Are we being attacked?" She asked, and I glanced up to where the Greeks were ferociously holding their ground against the attacking fighters. I could make out short swords, obsidian hatchets and wood staffs— all signs that it was a Darker ambush.

Hazam shot down that theory a second later. "Baron's warriors!" He yelled, lashing out with his boe staff and knocking one down. "Well trained! Very deadly!"

"I would beg to differ," Thalia growled, steping out of line for a second that lash out with her spear. One, two, three of her opponents hit the floor. I could see the fire in her eyes and knew she was mad; Annabeth and her had made close friends in the time they had been together.

I mentally cursed myself for being led into an ambush, especially one so poorly planned. I had been too focused on the River Styx, too busy worrying about myself to think about anyone else in the group. Because of that, Annabeth was injured and the rest of us were fighting for our lives.

"We could use some help, Perce," Hector said, whirling in a massive circle and slamming down one of the Barons warriors with his shield. There seemed to be an endless number of them attacking us and I wondered how many of these fighters the Barons had, ready to storm any Darker village.

"Help me up?" Annabeth asked, and I looked at her in disbelief.

"There's no way you're fighting."

"If you were the one with a spear in your side, what would you do?" She demanded, and I realized she was right. Had it been anyone else lying there I would probably have them back on their feet by now, ready to take part in the battle. But Annabeth was different. She had a destiny to fulfill, an important role to play in the quest. We needed her to defeat Arachne and reclaim the Mark of Athena.

But then again, what about me? My whole life I had prophecies and predictions hanging over my head and I had never shied from battle, not once. If I was willing to risk my life in that fashion, who was I to stop Annabeth? She was Greek, just like the rest of us— the blood of Athena pumped through her veins. If she couldn't fight, no one could.

"Alright," I grunted, pulling her up to her feet. Grimacing, she took the spear by the handle, snapped off the shaft before twisting out the heavy metal head and letting it drop to the ground. Blood pooled around her waist, but she just tied her shirt tightly and picked up her shield.

"Ready when you are," she smiled. I was definitely impressed by this; a spear to the ribs was definitely painful, and here she was preparing to fight with knife and shield.

"Make room!" I yelled over the din of weapons clashing together in the heart of battle. To my left, Nico fell back with a grunt of pain and staggered for a second before collapsing. Two warriors charged through, hacking left and right and opening the gap wider.

The barely made it another step before Annabeth rushed forwards with a defiant yell, slamming them forwards with her shield and lashing out with her knife. Surprised, the attackers fell back for a second, giving Hector and Piper the time they needed to reform the wall. Annabeth rushed to help Nico, who was just climbing back to his feet.

I joined the fight between Jason and Thalia, Riptide spinning in a deadly arc as I slashed left and right. Knowing that the warriors were being forced into the fight against their will I aimed to disarm, not kill. Thankfully, I could tell everyone around me was doing the same thing. They were good warriors, that was for sure. Slowly but surely we drove our circle outwards, forcing the Baron's fighters back until they started to run —slowly at first, but with in increasing numbers as they realized they were fighting a losing battle. Once the last of them had scampered away into the bushes we stood there, panting.

"That was… surprising," Annabeth said, grimacing as she adjusted her side. Nico was propped up on his elbows while Will Solace worked his magic to heal the sword cut on Nico's leg. It was ugly but looked as if it would be okay.

"Do you have any idea why they attacked us?" I asked Hazam. The horses, terrified by the sound of clashing weapons, had bolted in different directions and I sent Blackjack to round them up.

"Baron don't like us traveling from village," Hazam explained, cleaning his blade. "They also don't like Greeks. Make for bad combonation."

"Well I suggest that we mount up and get out of here before they send in another wave," Annabeth suggested, and there was a general murmur of concensus all around. I could feel everyone's eyes on me and felt panic setting in. We were in foreign land on a dangerous mission with the bulk of our fighting force behind us and some of the most important people in Greece under my protection. It was enough to make any ordinary commander sweat, but I was still a kid and didn't want this position in the first place.

My vision tipped to the side for a second and I felt the blood rush to my head in a moment of panic. Taking several calming deep breaths, I looked up to see everyone waiting for my orders. These were my people. The most capable warriors in all of Greece, each and every one of them willing to give their life for my cause— and a guide who worshipped the ground I walked on. I could do this.

"Right," I said brusquely, sheathing Riptide and taking in the situation. "Jason, go help round up the horses. Piper, go with him and watch his back. Clarisse, take Leo and Hector and scout those bushes ahead. Hazam, I want you and Thalia covering them with your bows incase anything pops up out of the blue. Be careful. Will, how's Nico looking?"

"It's not great," the healer admitted, looking slightly annoyed he wasn't over there covering Clarisse's back. Capable as he may be, Hazam was no where near the skill level of Will; even Thalia had trouble matching him shot for shot on some occasions. "The leg's cut deep and he's gone out cold. I've stopped the bleeding and I can seal the cut, but if it gets infected he might be done for."

"Well make sure that doesn't happen," I ordered. "We need him for the Underworld. Annabeth, I want you to look over the maps we have and plan back-up and secondary back-up maps for our trip; highlight the best places for an ambush, some up with ways to counter them. Makes sure to think like your enemy would think." She nodded, and I knew that if anyone could do it, she could. "Right, everyone, lets get to work."

_Annabeth_

That night we all sat around a campfire with our weapons nearby and our guard up. There was a rotating watch that would continue on into the night, but for now most of use were talking around the fire.

"I heard about the Dawn Rider legend," I told Percy quietly. He seemed lost in another world and turned towards me, eyes unfocussed for a second before snapping back. His eyebrows creased.

"A lot of that was made-up," he muttered, taking a drink from one of the flasks. I smiled inwardly; it was just like Percy to be modest.

"Hazam told me he saw it with his own eyes," I countered, and he blushed slightly. "It was really heroic, what you did."

"Everyone seems to think that," Percy said, chuckling and shaking his head. "Why do you hurry to make a hero of me, Annabeth?" He had been pressing this matter upon me for some time now, insisting that he wasn't a hero. I refused to believe it. Whether by intention or not, Percy had saved me from a life of mediocrity and guidelines in Britain and introduced me to a whole new world that I could have never dreamed of. This fact alone would be enough to place someone in the hero status, but Percy had done so much more than that: fought Atlas for the safety of his crew, lead the Argo into battle, saved my life on numerous occasions, stood up to the full force of the Arcadian army and governed a country at age 16. He was a hero in my books.

Percy, seeing the look on my face, let out a long sigh. "It wasn't an act of heroism," he snapped suddenly. "I was proving a point. I was showing my father that I was ready to do something other than sit around and learn royal etiques. Against his wishes I rode into Arcadia, looking for trouble, when Hermes passed on a message to me. He said that if I wanted to find a fight, Teutland was the place to look." Percy paused and looked down. "So you see, Annabeth, I'm no hero. I ended five lives to make a point. I wasn't being a hero; I was showing off."

"You still saved a whole village," I said softly. "And the Barons came back, didn't they?"

"Unfortunately," he answered. "And now several of them are out to get me. I wouldn't be surprised if the attack earlier today was because of them."

Eventually the fire died out and everyone went to sleep, alternating one-hour watches being switched through constantly. The only one who was excempt was Nico, who had claimed he felt better only to be forced back down by Thalia and ordered to sit still. Nico had obliged, with a look that told everyone exactly what he thought of being bed-ridden.

By morning we were up and moving again, swaying in our saddles. Contrary to the bunched-up formation we had been in yesterday, Percy had spread us out into formation. He and Hazam took front, both of them alert and scanning. Clarisse and Jason each took one side of the group to act as flanks and Thalia covered the rear with Will. The rest of us rode in pairs: Jason with Piper, me with Leo and Hector— who was the best fighter save Percy— guarding Nico. We rode with alert ears and scanning eyes, aware of the constant threat of attack.

After four hours of this Percy held one hand up in a closed fist, signaling us to stop. As one, the whole group hatled and stood ready, bows nocked and swords half drawn. A kilometer away I could make out a formation of three rocks leaning precariously against each other, and even from this distance I could almost sense the cold fingers of death grabbing at me, pulling me towards that entrance.

There was no doubt about it. This was the door to the Underworld.

On a signal from Percy we abandoned our positions to group around him. His face was set in grim, determined lines, his eyes hardened and his jaw clenched.

"Nico," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Better than you will in an hours' time," the son of Hades smiled tightly. "A dull throb but other than that nothing."

"You're good to fight?"

"I'd be thrilled for any of those pathetic excuses for a fighter to show their face," Nico growled, a familiar light flaring in his eyes. Despite the fact he would never touch me, I felt a chill go down my spine; death itself pumped through that boys viens, and with little more than a look he could reduce anyone to ash.

"Good," Percy nodded. "For I need you on this trip more than anyone." He looked up at each and every one of us. "Let me make it clear, this is a journey I may not return from. Jason." The first mate of the Argo mad eye contact with Percy, and a mutual understanding passed there. "Lest I die, the responsibility of the _Argo_ falls onto your hands." He broke into a grin. "Hurt my ship and I'll kick you out of Elysium when you join me." Jason returned the smile, if a little tightly.

"We need not worry about that," he said. "You'll be returning, Perce. If anyone can do this, you can."

"Let's hope," Percy smiled. "I die, Greece burns." A somewhat goofy smile broke onto his face. "Lets hope I don't die, yeah?"

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**So, I have a question for you guys: Do you want me to write Percy going into the Styx? His Achilles Heel would be in the same place, and I could create a whole spinoff with his mortal anchor. If you guys want it I'll write it, but I feel like we already know what happens so it wouldn't be that exciting. **

**Update on Friday! Think we can reach 650 before then? **

**REVIEW**


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm leaving to go camping, like, now, so this was all I could do. Sorry!**

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_Percy_

"You ready for this?" Nico asked as we descended the staircase to Hades. Riptide lit the way in front of me, throwing the narrow staircase into a gloomy light. I was mentally preparing myself for what to come: the worst pain a man could imagine, followed by an immediate threat of dissolving into nothingness and letting my soul drift for eternity.

"No," I answered truthfully, and he chuckled from behind me.

"Good. No one's ready for the River Styx. You sure you want to do this?"

"I have to," I replied, slightly annoyed at him breaking my concentration. "The prophecies call for it, and we both know what happens if you defy fate."

"Nothing good," he nodded grimly, and we spent the rest of the descent in a silence that seemed to be made heavy by the narrow staircase and dark walls around us. It was a long, long climb down and my calves were aching by the time we stepped out from the dark hallway into the gloomy cavern of the Underworld. The 'sky' arched high above us, disappearing into the shadows and making me feel as if I was trapped in a coffin.

"Right over here," Nico said, gesturing over the rough stone ground to where I could just make out the ink-blank river snaking through the hard rock, reflecting the flickering torches and making it seem as if the surface had life. I could almost here distant screams of pain and loss emitting from the surface, pulling me forwards and tempting me to dive right in.

"If you're going to do this, you have to be careful," Nico warned as I stepped forwards, letting Riptide drop to the ground. "Focus on one point on your body and imagine a cord there, tied to the bank. You need to concentrate solely on the cord, imagine it holding you on to the banks. Fail to do this and the Styx will sweep you aside like a pile of dry leaves."

"Right," I murmured, staring into the seething water. Ripped scrolls, torn clothes and broken weaponry flowed with the river— a stream of broken dreams and shattered hopes. I tried to believe that this would be possible; Achilles had done it be and survived, even if he had someone holding on to him.

Still, I was a son of Poseidon. I had to have some control of the water, the faintest ability to stabilize myself and fight the rippling current. Nico's ears rang in my head. If I wanted to do this I had to focus on the imaginary cord that would hold me down, the cord that would become my Achilles heel.

The small of my back. It was a well-protected area when I wore my armor and often doubly protected when I had the massive Greek shield slung over my back. Unless they were aiming to paralyze me, most enemies wouldn't go for a hit in that one spot; it was a hard area to hit, and an impractical one at that.

I tried to picture a rope attached to the small of my back, the other end tied tightly to the bank. I took several deep, calming breaths, reminding myself this was what had to happen. The prophecy called for it; it was the only way to kill the British who had drunk from the Spring of Immortality.

I stopped briefly to scoop up Riptide, gripping the sword tightly. Once invincible, my sword should be able to slice through invincible flesh as if it were butter. No man would be able to harm me; no weapon would do anything but bounce off my skin. I would become the greatest warrior to ever live.

With that in mind, I turned my mind to the cord on my back and stepped into the river, my foot sinking into the inky black liquid and hitting the small pebbles below. I had been expecting it to hurt— in fact, I had been preparing for pain the whole trip down the stairs. But my imagination had nothing in comparison to the Styx.

Imagine someone peeling open your stomach.

Now picture them pouring fire ants into that wound.

Have them stitch it up with a dull needle and force you to sit still while the ants ate you from the inside out.

You still won't come close to what it felt like stepping into the Styx. My breath left my chest with a strangled _whoosh_ and the only reason I didn't scream was because my lungs were empty. Gritting my teeth, I sucked in a deep breath and forced my other foot to move, taking me deep into the Styx. I focused on that all-important lifeline stuck to my back, holding me firmly in place as the river tried to sweep me away.

The pain felt as if it was getting better. Maybe my brain was just overloaded and was now shutting down to prevent my heart from giving out. The river tugged at me, desperate to sweep me along and consume my life force as it had so many before, but the cord secured to my back stopped it. I took another step, feeling the tiniest seed of confidence well up in my chest.

My foot slipped on the smooth pebbles below and I felt my center of gravity tip forwards. Nico yelled something from behind me, but I couldn't make it out. I toppled down, the river rushing up to greet me with the eagerness of a hungry lion.

The last thing I saw before going under was a flash of blonde. Then it was gone, and my world turned black.

_Annabeth_

"You think he'll be alright?" I asked Thalia as Percy descended down the stairs. The Prince had put on an air of confidence, but I could tell he was secretly scared. That unnerved me; Percy didn't scare easily.

"I think," Thalia replied, plucking anxiously at her bowstring even though she knew it was bad for the bow. "If anyone can do this, it'll be Percy."

"And if Percy can't?"

"He's not going to die," Thalia almost snapped. "The prophecy didn't call for it. The prophecy said—" she faltered. "He won't die."

"And what happens when he comes back?" I questioned. Thalia thought before answering.

"He'll be invincible except for one spot on his body," she answered. "If he's smart, Percy won't tell a living soul will his Achilles heel is lest they betray him. When he goes into the river he'll also need a mortal point, something to focus on and anchor him to this world. According to Nico, the mortal point has to be as close to a reason to live you can find, because the Styx is a river of death and if you want to survive it you have to keep your mind in the land of the living. If you don't, it'll sweep you away and dissolve your essence. Your soul will wander for all time."

"So Percy needs to focus on the best thing in his life," I summaried, and Thalia nodded. I found myself speculating as to what that may be. Greece, maybe? Or perhaps his father. Maybe Thalia, or the entire crew of the Argo.

Maybe me?

"Keep your heads up," Hector warned. "We're still in Teutland, and there's a baron out there somewhere who's got it out for us."

"Should we set up a perimeter, do you think?" Leo asked. I shook my head and answered.

"We have a good defensive position as it is. We'll be able to see them coming from miles away, and we have a solid place to back up to to prevent from being surrounded. Plus, we're on guard now, and it should take the Barons more than a day to rally enough troops to take us. By then Percy should be out of the Underworld and fully invincible." Jason smiled.

"Well, it seems we don't have much to worry about," he said. "After putting up with Percy's on-the-spot plans, it's good to have someone who actually thinks."

"That's how I was trained," I smiled modestly. It was true I had been trained as a British strategist, but with the Greeks I was able to do so much more. They were better fighters, quicker thinkers and could do a lot more than the British when it came to thinking on the spot. Plus they had been trained since birth to think, act and fight as a single, impenetrable unit. It made my job as a strategist a whole lot easier.

"So you're sure they won't be able to sneak up on us?" Hector asked, his eyes still scanning restlessly. I understood his caution, even if I was slightly annoyed by his lack of faith in me.

"Look around," I said irritably. "To get close enough they'd have to be invis—"

Piper crumpled to the ground with a slight gasp of surprise, a heavy crossbow bolt sprouting from her stomach. Whistles pierced the air as more bolts sailed towards us, answered in an instant by the three archers.

The ring of fighters, all Darkers save their commander, had formed a ring around us. The commander was a towering man, dressed in glistening armor and holding a massive-two hand morning star. His face was covered by a blank silver mask.

"Barons magic!" Hector of Troy yelled, slipping his shield onto his arm and meeting the first warrior head on. "They got close! Annabeth!"

"Form a shield wall!" I barked, feeling a ball of panic settle in my chest. We had relaxed too much, forgotten to keep our guard up even though we were in enemy territory. Now we were surrounded with two of our best fighters gone.

"Hold the wall!" Jason bellowed over the din. "Thalia, up on the rocks and start picking them off. Annabeth, with me. Let's get that Baron bastard." The Greeks locked shields as Hazam and Thalia scrambled up the rocks of Hades and started pouring arrows steadily into the group. Will Solace was tending to Thalia while looked up from time to time to drop a Darker.

These Darkers looked slightly different. Their skin was paler and cleaner, their hair was neater and most of them had deep green eyes instead of brown. They were obviously better fed and treated than the village Darkers, although they were lousy fighters. Jason and I plowed our way through the Baron's fighters, my knife slashing right and left, piercing through leather armor and cutting down opponents.

Soon the Baron saw us and even though he was wearing a mask I swear his face split into a smile. He slowly turned to face us full, swinging his mace experimentally in one hand while shrugging a huge, kite-shaped shield on the other.

Okay, maybe it was a one-handed mace.

Jason sliced down two more Darkers and was momentarily distracted as his sword got stuck. Using this to his full advantage, the Baron struck forwards, the massive spike ball swinging forwards and slamming into Jason's chest.

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**Thoughts? Mistakes? Leave it all in a review. Let's get 660. **

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	22. Chapter 22

**So, I've kind of abandoned my every two week updating schedule, but oh well. I'll try to update every two weeks at least. **

**Thank you all for the reviews we got on the last chapter! We're on our way to 1000 and I only have you guys to thank. So thank you all, and enjoy the chapter.**

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Jason flew backwards ten feet, his armor saving his life but the blow no doubt cracking a rib and knocking the air from his lungs. He lay there groaning for a second before slumping to the ground unconscious and leaving me to fend for myself against the monster of a man who was now turning to face me.

His mace and chain whirled through the air, striking out towards me with blinding speed. I brought the shield up at an angle, letting the mace skim off of it. Before I could strike forwards the Baron reversed his swing and struk again. Parrying with my knife would do no good; the chain would catch the blade and maybe even snap it in half. Instead I leaped backwards desperately, letting the massive weapon swing by. Again the Baron was able to keep his balance, using immense wrist strength to yank the mace backwards and up, bringing it crashing down at me in an over-hand strike.

There was no dodging this time. I brought my shield up and braced my legs as the four-pound spiked ball slammed into it, denting the metal but for the most part bouncing clean off. You have to love the Greeks shields, I reflected as I lunged forwards with my knife.

It caught the Baron in the leg and he howled, slamming me back with his shield and spinning the mace. _Bam!_ It slammed into my shield arm, throwing me off balance. _Bam!_ Another strike came over-head, almost too fast for me to follow. If it kept up like this I would be dead in minutes.

I had to find a way to counter the mace, I knew. A seed of fear and doubt started to grow in my stomach and I pushed it down, instead asking myself what Percy would do.

That didn't work, because Percy was armed with Riptide— a blade more than twice as long as mine. I couldn't rely on the knowledge of other to get out of this situation, nor could I count on winning by skill alone. No, to get out of here I would have to think smart.

Like a daughter of Athena.

The massive Baron swung again and I leaped to the side, watching as the mace stab deep into the ground. Using this to my advantage I kicked off the Baron's arm and lunged forwards, my knife aimed at the eyehole in the smooth mask that blocked my view of the Baron. The blade stuck there and he let out another bellow of pain, lurching straight up and sending me flying over his head and onto the ground.

My knife got stuck.

With a growl, he set his shield down, twisted by the handle and yanked out the knife, tossing it contemptuously to the ground and turning to me. Groaning and coughing, I rolled to my feet and gripped my shield with two hands. The rest of the crew were still fighting a losing battle, with Jason passed out on the ground, Nico and Percy AWOL and our best archer busy looking after Piper.

Plus I was fighting a giant of a man armed with only a shield.

He swung the mace twice before brining it crashing down on my shield. The blow caused me to stumble backwards and before I could gain my footing another one slammed into the metal circle, denting it further. I tried desperately to keep my ground as two more hammer blows rained upon me, each one causing a deafening _boom_ to reverberate around my head.

A flicker of movement caught my eye off to the right and I desperately moved my shield to cover my side as the ball and chain slammed into my arm. I was thrown off my feet, somersaulting in mid-air and slamming into the ground, hard. Knowing that I had lost, I curled up into a ball and held the shield up as if blocking a rain of arrows.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_ Three quick blows slammed down, each one wearing out my arms more and denting the shield further. I desperately searched for a weapon, some way out of this, but found none. I needed to start keeping an extra knife on my leg or a sword with me, because right now I was defensless.

A strong hand gripped the shield by the rim and tore it right away from me, sending the heavy disk spinning away as if it was nothing. The Baron loomed over me, his blank silver mask reflecting my terrified, pale features. Seeing how pathetic I looked sprawled onto the ground, I forced myself up onto my elbows and glared defiantly at him as he twirled the mace. I would die honourably, like a Greek.

I had failed Percy, but I had given it my all. Blood was still streaming out of the Baron's eye and he was panting ever so slightly, meaning I had put up a good fight. Really, what can you do against a mace and chain when you've got a knife.

The Baron swung his mace up.

I closed my eyes and prepared for the inevitable impact.

Two, three, four seconds passed. I cracked open an eye just in time to see the ball and chain screaming down towards me, ready to crush my skull and end my life.

A hand shot out of nowhere, stopping the ball in mid-air as if it were made out of cotton. With a quick jerk, the mysterious assilant tore it away from the Baron and sent the weapon flying away.

"Need a hand?" Perseus Jackson smiled down at me, twisting around and bringing his fist into the Baron's face with a resonating _slam_. The massive man wheeled back as Percy tossed me my knife, rolled his shield around and flew towards the crew of the Argo. Off to his right I could see Nico, Stygian Iron sword drawn, neatly carving his way through the assembled Darkers.

"Take care of the Baron!" Percy yelled at me, slashing down two more oponnents and slowly forging a way to the center of the attack, where the crew of the Argo were slowly giving ground.

Take care of the Baron? Was he crazy? Even without his massive mace that Baron could still crush me like a bug. One good punch would knock me out; a single hit with his shield could break half a dozen of my ribs. If I let him get to close he would crush me like a bug.

Slowly, the massive man wash climbing to his feet, his smooth silver mask repairing itself as he ripped a long dagger from his belt, regripped his shield and focused on me. Now that he had the kite-shaped shield in place, all the advantages were on his side: he could block any of my strikes while striking out with his sword, he could buffet me with the massive thing or he could trap my knife and leave me defensless. As long as I was holding the shield in my right hand, I had no chance.

I switched hands.

The anger radiating around him turned to confusion for a second as I now faced his seven-foot form holding only a short knife in my wrong hand. I briefly reflected how odd it was that the Baron didn't just use his powers to strike me down, but before I could continue that thought he lunged at me.

_Fight smart. _

I dodged to the right, raising my knife and deflecting his instead of parrying it dead-on. Had I been using my right hand and moving to the left he would have been able to slam me with his shield, but as it was he could barely deflect as I switched hands and stabbed at his exposed ribs. The blow glanced off his shield and I used my forwards momentum to roll under his next strike and spring up to my feet.

The knife was back in my left hand.

Without a low growl the Baron lunged again, both feet leaving the ground and his sword— which was almost as long as Riptide— slicing towards me. Trusting the strength of the celestial bronze, I held the handle of my knife in my left hand and pressed the flat of the blade to the palm of my right, spreading my feet and bracing for impact.

Sure enough, the knife held fast. My knees gave for a second before I locked them out and stared into the Baron's face, blood pumping and my heart racing. He was pressing down with all his strength on the knife, trying desperately to kill me.

With a yell, I dove off the the side, rolled over my right shoulder and came into a kneeling position, driving hard off the ground and lunging forwards. The Baron turned towards me just in time for me to drive my knife right into his other eye.

There was no flash of light, no bang or tortured scream. The Baron dropped dead like any normal person would and I rolled off of him, lying there panting. The fighting around us was winding down to an end as the crew of the Argo held their ground. With their leader gone, the Darkers started to trickle away— first in groups of one or two, then in whole swarms when they realized their comrades were leaving.

"Good job," Percy smiled, helping me to my feet. He wasn't even panting, nor was he injured in any way. His skin was smooth and hard, free of any cuts or bruises. I had half been expecting his skin to glow with the curse of Achilles or take on a metallic texture, but it seemed perfectly normal.

"Did it work?" I asked him as I stood up. As way of answer he took my knife and ran it over the palm of his hand. Nothing happened.

"Oh, it worked," he smiled. "_Commander of the Dragon take the curse, or the legend of Greece be forever immersed._ That's done."

"So now you can kill the British?" I asked him, and he nodded grimly. "Can they hurt you?"

"Only if they find my Achilles Heel," he answered. "Which is highly unlikely." I had a million questions I wanted to ask him, but I realized now was probably not the time. "Come on, we should get back to the crew before any other Baron decides he wants to try his luck."

Linebreak

I felt a lot safer once we were in Quomine, surrounded by Greeks and Darkers alike (all armed, all ready to defend us if they needed to.) We would be leaving the next morning to the ship, but Percy insisted that they throw a feast for the people of Quomine in way of thanking them.

Naturally, the leader resisted, but Percy wasn't going to be swayed in his opinion. Within an hour the Demeter cabin had a huge bonfire roaring, the mouth-watering smell of cooking meat wafting through the village and into the country land beyond. The forest of Pixall was once again lit up by glowing, flitting lights as the sun sunk down and the flowers came to light. The Apollo cabin had their lyres out and were singing ridiculous songs while dancing around the blazing fire, strumming loudly and not caring much for tune. They were great musicians I knew, but right then they let themselves go and just played what they wanted. The Darkers sang along as best they could.

It was a rare opportunity for them, I knew. Their lives were hard and often short, shrouded by constant fear of the Barons and a heavy responsibility to protect the village. By letting Percy stay in Quomine, they had earned themselves two delicious meals as well as five times the amount of money it had cost them. Percy had been adamant about payment when I asked him, saying that compared to the wealth of Greece two hundred and fifty gold coins— a currency recognized around the globe— was very little indeed.

In reality, it was enough to buy a good ship and a crew, along with half a dozen guns and cannons to boot.

We slept soundly that night, reassured by the presence of the Greeks and Darkers around us. In the morning the Demeter cabin cooked a meal of warm flat bred and fresh fruit, feeding it to the whole crew and the village of Quomine. The meal was delicious and a warm cup of coffee woke me up and helped soothe the aching insides I had sustained in yesterdays fight.

Hazam would be escorting us to the ship even though we knew the way. I had a feeling the young Darker just wanted to spend more time with the 'Dawn Rider'— also known as Percy to those close to him. It was halfway to noon when we finally formed up into two columns, shields on the outside, and started our slow march through the forest of Pixall with the trees soaring around us. I studied the beautiful flowers that went by under my horse's hooves, worried that the hundreds of Greeks would be trampling the wondrous creatures. Then I dismissed the thought; we had walked through here not many days ago and the carpet ahead looked brand new. The horses reached down every now and then to grab a mouthful of the luscious flowers but were always stopped by reins.

Finally we broke free of the forest and could see the beach ahead, the _Argo_ still chained securely to the beach. Next to me I felt Percy relax a bit and smile to himself; no Captain liked to be away from his ship for too long and not known if she would be there when he returned.

"What know?" I asked Percy, coming up beside him. A burden seemed to drop away from his shoulders now that we were nearly out at sea.

"We go back to Greece and into the Uncharted Isles," he answered, keeping a keen eye out for any arising threats. "There, the rocks of Tallite lead to Arachne's cavern. It's a very unpleasant area; I should think that only a few of us will go down. Nico, obviously, and Hector of Troy will come as well. Arachne has a whole house of champions ready to fight for her; you needst not fight for them, only to slay Arachne yourself."

"And you think I can do that?"

"I think that from the moment I saw you on the _Arthur_ with a gun in hand and defiance in your eyes after killing the greatest Greek captain ever to live I knew you would be the one." Percy smiled. "Hector, Nico and I will guide you through; no doubt we will be separated or killed along the way. In all likelihood you'll be facing Arachne on your own."

"Well then," I smiled. "You better train me on the Argo."

"Count on it," Percy replied, turning back to his ship as we reached the beach. We had been caught up in our conversation and didn't notice that many of the pirates looked unsettled. In a blur of hooves Jason galloped ahead to the ship, his sword drawn and his eyes alert. Brow furrowing, Percy clicked his tongue and trotted over to where Thalia was standing.

"What's the matter?" he asked her. She had her spear drawn and I noticed many of the Greeks also had either lances or swords out and at the ready.

"There's no movement," Thalia answered tersely, and I noticed she was right. The deck of the _Argo_ was completely silent despite the warm, sunny day. There were no sentries, no guards or tanners or couples looking for privacy. No one cam to greet us as we neared or drop a ladder for Jason, forcing him to fly up the deck on Tempest.

Percy had left a quarter of the crew behind. So where were they now?

"Let's go," the Prince of Greece said brusquely, kicking his heels and sending Blackjack into a gallop. I followed quickly; obviously Percy didn't want to wait for Jason. Our horses hooves thudded on the sand, kicking up a trail behind us as Hector kept the Greeks in their ranks, warning them to be wary of an attack.

When we were twenty feet away Percy uttered a command to Blackjack and his Pegasus leaped off the ground, mighty wings spreading and boosting the two of them off the ground. I was forced to a halt until a ladder dropped from the deck, unraveling and allowing me to climb up. The rope ladder dug into my hands as I went, heat of the day bearing down as if Apollo had directed the full force of the sun to beat down on my shoulders. When I was halfway up I sensed a peculiar smell in my nostrils; an unpleasant one, tinged with something that was oddly familiar yet I couldn't recognize. I neared the top of the ladder, grabbed the railing and swung up.

Both smells hit me in full force and suddenly they came rushing to mind. The first was the smell of smoking gun powder, a scent I had become accustom too over the years as a British privateer. I looked up to see Percy and Jason standing slack on the deck, staring up ship with disbelieving expressions. I felt a horrible realization spread through my body like a living shadow as my mind clicked on to the unpleasant smell.

It was death.

Seventy-five Greeks_, _the force Percy had left to defend his ship, were dead.

Every last one of them.

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**So, in order to answer a PM asking me if Percy and Annabeth will start the whole 'Seaweed Brain/ Wisegirl' nickname thing: No. No, I will not, at least not in the first one. They're raised in a different environment, Percy's sharper (because I already hate how stupid he is sometimes) and it's a different setting. So no, I will not have the nicknames just yet.**

**Now that I got that out of the way, thanks for reading and helping me on my dream of 1000 reviews.**

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	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry about the long wait, guys— especially after the cliffhanger on the previous chapter. It was exam break and I really had to focus on studying, but due to flooding in my area exams and cancelled and I was able to get this up. **

**Enjoy!**

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_Annabeth_

For a second, I was too stunned to move. I had experienced death before— in fact, I had been surrounded by it for quite a few years now— but never something like this. The Greeks littered the floor of the _Argo, _blood caked on the decks below them, staining the wood and attracting flies. Their lifeless eyes, just yesterday full of happiness and determination, were now staring up at the sky without a hint of the person that had once occupied the corpse. They had been fighters— warriors on a mission to defend their homeland, some of the greatest warriors Greece had ever seen, and now they were dead on the ground.

Percy beside me was staring stunned at his dead crew. His face was one of absolute misunderstanding as his sea-green eyes, now dark with anguish, leaped from corpse to corpse so quickly they were almost blurs. He focuses on the helm, where I could make out two figures lying at the stairs leading up to the wheelhouse.

Beckendorf the mechanic and Selena, the daughter of Aphrodite who had dated him for a year now. They had been planning to get married in three weeks, or after we got back from this trip. They were holding hands, slumped against stairs with the same lifless stare the rest of the doomed crew wore.

By now the rest of the Argo were clambering up onto the ship, taking in the spectacle before them with stunned eyes. Percy was literally shaking beside me, his jaw clenched and his face flushed with anger. The whole crew was up now, stunned expressions and burning eyes showing exactly what they thought of the spectacle.

"Who?" Jason was just barely able to choke out through a rage that almost matched Percy's.

"British," I answered, feeling my own rage building up. There were no signs of a struggle; each and every body had been punctured by multiple bullet wounds, tearing at flesh and ripping at their organs. The Greeks lived, fought and died by a code of honor, and the British had called them from a hundred feet with a firing line.

Cowards.

"Greeks!" Percy suddenly bellowed, making me jump. He leaped onto a nearby platform so that all the assembled warriors could see him. I scanned their faces and found a renewed anger as they reached the same conclusion I had: the British had killed the crew of the Argo.

"Fellow countrymen! When you stepped aboard this ship, same as I, you took a vow. A vow of loyalty. A vow of honor. A vow to never kill unless threatened, and to never slay an unarmed man." Percy gestured around him, his voice breaking with anger. "The British have no such vows! Look around you and tell me that these men deserve nothing but the lowest level of whatever hell they worship. Look at your feet and see brave men and woman, honorable fighters and tell me that the ones who killed them are worthy of anything!" I felt my blood pumping at his words, my hand twitching towards the knife on my belt. The sight of Beckendorf and Selena, holding hands and laying dead on the ground, had pushed me over the edge and my normally logic-infused brain was focused on only one thing: revenge.

It was the same with Percy. His easy going, light-hearted manner had been shed to reveal the dark warrior that was beneath. His eyes shone with anger and his clenched fists shook as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"Get the sails up," he growled, unsheathing Riptide and wielding it above his head. "The British ships that did this are nay over the horizon, and there'll be hell to pay when we catch up to them." His expression turned from one of rage to a cold, calculating anger. "Load the ballista's and ready your spears, boys." He took a deep breath, hefting his sword over his head. "_For Beckendorf!"_

Linebreak

The battle was short, violent and then it was over. Before the sun was touching the horizon we had caught up with the British fleet— six battleships and two transports. Before they knew what was happening each ship had been boarded by a group of fury-drive Greeks, slamming back the privateers with their shields and stabbing with their bronze swords. I stayed with Percy on the helm as he sailed from ship to ship, the _Argo_ responding to his commands immediately and the ocean beneath helping us out even more. The Prince's eyes burned with fury, but underneath there was a sheen of sadness and resignation.

That worried me. That meant as soon as the battle was over, as soon as the fury wore off, Percy would most likely retreat into himself and give up on the quest because of this loss. He had been through so much for someone so young, and he placed far too much responsibility on his shoulders. He would blame himself for the death of his crew and no one else.

It took half an hour before there were sixteen people kneeling in a straight line along the deck of the _Argo_. Each ship had a Captain and a first mate whom had been captured on Percy's orders. On top of that, the two transports had been carrying wealthy noblemen and one battleship had been holding two of the invincible British warriors— chained and stripped of all weapons.

"Let me make one thing _perfectly_ clear," Percy bellowed as he strode along the lines of British, Riptide banging against his thigh as he walked. "There are sixteen of you right now. Every last one of you knows the information I need, and one of you is going to tell me." He stopped his pacing and turned to face them. "The other fifteen will be dead, never to see another sunrise."

I was standing just to his right, amidst the wall of hostile Greeks that surrounded the British. I knew several of them— including Clarisse— wanted to charge and run them through with her spear, but Percy held his crew back with sheer willpower.

"This is nonsense!" One of the invincible knights snapped, moving with breathtaking speed as he stood up, snapping his chains as if they were twine. I felt an uneasy stir go through the Greeks, me included. The whole group shifted nervously, tightening the grips they held on their shields and hefting weapons just a little bit higher. "Brother, rise with me! We can fight here, take the ship, and return to Britain as nothing short of gods! We shall slay the Greeks! We shall—" he never got to say another word. Riptide flashed— once, twice and the knight dropped dead, blood pouring out of his wounds as the light left his eyes.

Silence. Utter, shocked silence greeted Percy's action. The second knight, halfway through rising, hand a second to react before Percy whirled around, Riptide coming in a massive arc and sending his head rolling off his shoulders.

"_Right!" _The captain thundered, waves of anger basically rolling off of him. "Are there any more takers for an attempt to escape? No? None? Good." His eyes turned hard. "There are now fourteen of you. You've all lived pampered, comfortable lives and I can guarantee the next few hours until someone tells me what I want to know will be the worst of your lives. Some of you will want to resist, to hang on to whatever false sense of rebellion it gives you. Those will be the ones who are dead. One of you, however, will break before dawn and tell me. This I know. You want to know how?" No one answered, but Percy continued. "Because the information isn't that important. I'm not asking you how to kill your King, or the secret code that will allow me to blow up every single British cruiser out there. I could get the answer to the question I'm asking; all you'll be doing is making it easier for me. Let that weigh on you souls as you're being tortured: your reistance is, quite literally, futile to the point of stupidity." All of them were staring up at Percy with defiant masks, but their eyes gave away the fear they were feeling.

"So," Percy continued. "Who wants to live? Because now I ask the very simple question: _where is the spring of Immortality?_"

No one answered.

"You," Percy snapped, pointing to the youngest of the bunch. He was a first mate, nay twenty, dressed in a tight-fitting blue uniform with an abundance of tassels and buttons hanging off of it. "How old are you?"

The first mate didn't answer. He just stared back at Percy, his jaw set and his eyes burning with fear. The captain stayed there for a second, maintaining eye contact, before standing up with a sigh. He turned to walk away, making a discreet hand signal to Clarisse as he did.

The daughter of Ares surged forwards, grabbing the young privateer by his arm and yanking him to his feet without exerting any effort what so ever. Clarisse took a second to collect herself, bunching up before exploding outwards and throwing the defiant sailor over the railing of the _Argo_ and into the churning sea below, already tainted red by the blood of his comrades.

"YOU DO NOT DEFY ME!" Percy bellowed, spinning around and getting right into the face of one privateer. "Your sacrifices will be in vain. No one will even know you resisted."

"God will know," one of the Captains said bravely, standing up and facing down Percy. "God will hear of our sacrifice."

Another discreet hand signal by Percy and Clarisse lunged again, spear whipping forwards to take the privateer in the neck. He dropped dead. The daughter of the war god had made close friends with Selena, despite their obvious differences, and was perhaps the most livid of all the crew.

"Well then," Percy said, staring down at the dead captain. "Perhaps you can pass on the message to him." He wheeled around, turning his back to the men in a sign of utter contempt. "Take them below decks. Let me know when they crack."

Linebreak

It took less than half an hour before Percy had the location of the Spring of Immortality. It was dark by then and the Captained ordered everyone to bed, saying he would take the helm.

I found him past midnight sitting on the masthead of the ship, legs dangling over the side into thin air. I had seen Percy perch on that masthead several times— delivering speeches, leading them into battle or just to enjoy the cool sea breeze as it whipped by. Each time he had leaped up with brilliant energy, grabbing at a nearby rope and staring around with energy in his eyes. Whatever challenge presented itself the prince was always ready to take it head-on.

Not now, though. Now he slouched on the hard metal, back sagging, his head held between his hands as he stared at the black water a hundred feet below. I approached him slowly, trying to ignore the soft squelching sound my boot made as I trod on a pile of blood.

"The didn't die a beautiful death."

I frowned at that sentence as I came to sit next to him, sinking onto the hard metal of the _Argo's_ masthead, a giant dragon. Percy didn't even look at me, just continued to stare at the water beneath. His entire body radiated defeat.

"Well," I said slowly, picking my words carefully and trying to draw from years of schooling, logic forcing its way through the sadness and anger clouding my mind like an axe through wood. I was _smart_. I was logical. I could think this through, get Percy out of his mood. "A wise man once said that in the moments before death, you see a person's true colours. And no one, right before they leave, is beautiful."

"Everyone is beautiful," Percy snapped back. "That's something you British never grasped, isn't it?" I elected to ignore the jibe about me being still British, although I'd have to have a talk with him about that later on. "Beauty, as I once heard, is in the eye of the beholder. That means, no matter what flaws or imperfections one can pick out on an individual there will be an equal number of people who can see that individual as beautiful. Life in itself is a beautiful thing; the only reason we're alive is because we eventually die and the only reason we die is so being alive means anything. Accept death and it will come easier; face it, and it will be more beautiful by tenfold."

"In Greek culture a true beautiful death is one in which a warrior faces the inebitable and impeding death, smiles into it and then fights with it tooth and claw so that Hades knows his place. It is perhaps the hardest concept to grasp: acceptance walking hand-in-hand with utter denial."

"And you say the crew didn't die a beautiful death?"

"They didn't have time to," Percy replied shortly. "Shot in the back by British cowards, put down by a firing line, whisked off to the Underworld before their souls had a chance to realize what was happening. If that's not cruel, then I don't know what is."

"You focus too much on the death," I told him, choosing my words carefully. "What about the life, Percy? Beckendorf helped build the _Argo, _did he not?" Percy nodded. "And he sailed with you for years, keeping the waters, forging some of the finest weapons to ever join battle. He made a sword for the war god, Percy, and I can't think of anything more amazing to do in a lifetime." I reached over and grabbed his hand. "They all lived beautiful lives, Percy, beautiful days filled with laughter and song and love, and their lives were cut short in the midst of one of those days. And if the life was beautiful, who cares what the death looked like?"

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**So my families going an vacation a lot throughout the summer and I'm starting highschool next week, meaning I don't know how often I'll be able to update the story. But I promise the chapters will keep coming!**

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	24. Chapter 24

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_Percy_

"Look alive, boys," I ordered, pushing my way through the throng of people on the deck to get to the front of the _Argo_. Thalia an Annabeth were already there, both of them dressed in full armor and looking for battle. The air hung heavy with a thick white mist that enveloped my ship completely, swarming over the sides and rolling across the deck. With it came a damp, musty smell and a feeling of utter isolation against the rest of the world. I knew the sun was out there somewhere, as was the sky and the landfall we were about to make, but right now all I saw was white.

There were three islands that formed up the Uncharted Isles, one of the most dangerous and overall creepiest places in all the world. The first one was the safest— Isle of the dead, where a massive patch of earth was home to the largest pyre in the world. It was a towering structure, built of ancient wood that burned down when lit and yet always seemed to reform itself later on. The ground surrounding it had been called the carpet of lost souls as it contained the ashes of every Greek hero to live, from Achilles to Orpheus to King Leonidas.

It was going to be the resting place of Beckendorf and his fallen crew.

The next one was the Nisí tis Katadíkis— Island of Damnation. It was a dark, mysterious place, forged pits of Tartarus and then coughed up to the surface when the primordial didn't want it down there any more. It was where the rogue gods went, the outcasts, the freaks. It was held exclusively for those that Zeus didn't trust with the other conniving bastards who dared to turn against Greece.

That was our destination.

The next Island was home to Ádi Stratoú, better known as Hades Army. The god of the dead denied all connections relating to the fierce warrior tribe, but the facts remained they were a deadly fighting force that used slaves to hone their killing abilities.

"How can we see anything?" Annabeth asked me as I drew level with her. A lamp hung not three feet away and yet the daughter of Athena was still shrouded in mist.

_At least it's not green, _I thought grimly, shaking away that thought.

"We can't," I replied bluntly. "The Island of Damnation is a wild, uncharted place that doesn't take kindly to strangers landing upon its beaches. I wouldn't be surprised if a nasty monster's awaiting for us right on the beach."

"And if it is?"

"You can handle it," I smiled. "You need a bit of practice in that sort of thing anyways."

"I most definitely will not," Annabeth replied. "I'm reserving my strength for Arachne." Over the past couple of days Hector and I had been teaching her the basics of fighting. The Prince of Troy would teach her a move or sequence to perform and once she had mastered it her and I would spar. I was pleased to see she was improving greatly— she was the fastest learner I had ever seen.

"Land-ho!" Leo yelled from the wheel. I looked away from Annabeth and straight ahead where a grey mass was suddenly looming in the sea. I took in the wind, current, speed of the boat and proximity of the land quickly before turning towards my crew.

"Starboard sails down!" I barked, stepping up on the railing as to be seen easier. "Leo, beach us to port. Jason, you'll be first down and I want archers on the ready to cover him. I want lanterns lighting this boat up like it was day and get something to dispel of that bloody fog so we can see the beach. Armor and weapons, everyone, assembled in two ranks according to cabin and prepare to land." There was a bustle of activity as the well trained Greeks snapped on breastplates, sheathed weapons and picked up shields. Instead of the twenty-pound disk shield that was used for fighting, these were massive wooden rectangles four and a half feet tall and three feet wide curved into almost a semi-circle. They were used for defensive shield walls and while they were too heavy to fight with, the iron-coated wood planks would repel any sort of weapon, enabling the Greek to stab out with a spear. Notches were carved into the right-hand side of the shield. When linked together in a rectangle of fifty Greeks, all bristling with lances and with more shields to cover their upper bodies, it was an almost impenetrable unit.

Of course, we couldn't take them on the whole journey. Personally I had never touched one of them, instead preferring my circular, intricately designed shield that had served me well over the years. But the Island of Damnation was a dangerous, dark place and I was taking no chances while we landed. I wanted the whole beach cleared and I wanted my crew to be as safe as possible while doing it.

"Landing soon!" Leo called from the wheel, his brow creased in concentration as he navigated half-blind to the beach, trying to see past the bulk of the _Argo_ to the land beyond. I wandered up to Jason, who was leaning against his golden lance while tightening his leg plates.

"You okay to land?" I asked him. For years he had been the first off the ship but I always asked him before he did it; if he didn't want to I would try it myself, using the water as a cushion to land.

But Jason nodded casually, picking a lantern up from the ground and letting it swing from his weapon. Well I may be able to best him in a sword fight; Jason was a far better spearman than I would ever be.

"No problem," he replied. "I'm not sure I'll be able to see the ground, what with all this mist, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"Of course not," I smiled. Making sure no one was within easy earshot, I stepped a bit closer to him.

"Listen, Jason. I'm not going to take the whole crew to Arachne's cave. In fact, I was thinking just a small party. Me and Annabeth, obviously, and Nico to guide us. I know how dangerous this land is so I don't want to weaken the crew too much, but besting Arachne and her champions won't be easy so I want some of our best fighters on my side as well."

"I would take Hector," Jason answered. "And having my sister to cover you with her bow wouldn't be a bad idea, either. Hazam, too." The Darker had never actually left the ship. He had been on board when we found the crew dead and had stayed on board once we launched. He was traveling with us now, training with Jason and the Apollo cabin to fine-tune his skills.

"Are you okay staying here to guard the ship?" I asked. This was the part I was worried about. Based on previous track records I knew there was a good chance that people would be reluctant to stay behind and guard the _Argo_. To keep them on duty I would need someone reliable, someone whom I knew I could trust to keep the crew in place while not completely taking over the role of leader while I was gone. They would have to be a good fighter, as well, and a leader on top of that.

And Jason was the best I had.

"No problem," he repeated. "I'll hold her, Percy."

"No last stands," I told him firmly. "We're on hostile ground if I've ever seen it and I don't want to come back from with someone wounded to find all of you dead and my ship burned down. Things look ugly you turn and run, honor be dammed. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Jason said. "Although I doubt that there'll be any human attacks on the ship. No one but the Greeks come here and even then I bet we're the first in half a millennia. We can hold any monster that decides to poke its head through the mist."

"Good," I nodded, clapping him on the back and stepping away. We came to a sudden, grinding halt as the ship hit beach. "You better go, now." He nodded and stood up.

"Next time I see you, you better have that coin," he smiled, clasping forearms with me. "May the gods keep the wolves in your hills."

"And the women in your bed," I replied.

_Annabeth_

The Island of Damnation was a rocky, damp place with grey skies and thick fog that did nothing to calm my jangling nerves. Weapons in hand, moving no faster that a slow walk, the six of us moved across the slippery ground slowly, lanterns held out far in front of us as if it would make a difference against the fog.

In my hands I had an old scroll that had been dug up from the _Argo's_ library that was a rough map of the island. It had been patched together from a mixture of estimations, vague outlines and ancient myths, but it was better than nothing and so far had held decently accurate.

"We should be clearing the fog soon," I announced, my voice sounding oddly muted by the thick fog. "And then we'll hit the dead forest. After that it's a days ride to Trappers River. Then, three kilometers past that, Arachne's cave." I was proud of my voice not hitching at the end. I was terrified to the bone with the prospect of fighting the spider goddess.

What made it worse was the fact that no one knew quite what Arachne was. Some of the scrolls said she was a massive spider the size of a house, while others argued she existed merely in a spiritual sense and the only way to kill her would be to kill every spider in the world. Her abilities, her strengths, her weaknesses— those were all unknown, and that made me decidedly uneasy as the cave drew nearer. I had no way to form a plan, no concrete information to work on. I would be going in with a knife and a sword and hoping that it was possible to defeat her.

I had, of course, considered other methods such as getting Hazel to bring the cavern roof down on Arachne or getting Percy to flood it. Pouring oil into the cave and lighting it up had also been another option, and I had seriously considered pulling something along those lines.

But if the ancient scrolls agreed on one thing, it was that Arachne needed to be slain in a fair fight by a child of Athena. Of course, that didn't mean it would be a fair fight; many thought Arachne's cavern was host to a world of horrors all prepared to kill to protect their master. I would have to get by them in order to reach the spider queen.

"A days ride?" Hector of Troy asked from next to me. "How long is that while walking?"

"Longer," Nico answered.

"No horse would set foot on this island," Percy told us from the front of the group. For maybe the second time I had seen him the Captain looked decidedly uneasy, his eyes sliding from left to right and his knuckles white around Riptide. "Hades, _I _don't even want to be here."

"It's not that bad," Nico protested, and Thalia turned her glare to him.

"You would think," she snapped. The thick mist had rendered Thalia's bow useless so instead her spear was drawn, as was her shield. Medusas head glared at me from the face and I was forced to look away, trying to force the image out of my mind. "I for one dislike dark rocks and impenetrable fog."

"We'll be breaking the fog soon," I said firmly, trying to be the voice of reason. "And then we'll be able to see. Maybe light a fire, as well."

"No fires," Percy said firmly, his gaze sweeping back and forth. "As soon as we can see something the lamps are going out as well." A storm of protests met this.

"You know light won't make a difference to any monsters," Thalia groaned, looking longingly at her small lantern. The light it produced was weak and flickering but in the thick fog it may as well have been a roaring bonfire. I didn't want to part with my lantern either.

"Ain't monsters I'm worried about," Percy replied tightly. "In fact, if it were just monsters I'd be happy to let them come. Lets send a message back to Arachne." We traveled in silence after that for an hour or so, shields up, eyes alert. My shoulder was burning with the exertion of carrying the twenty-pound Greek shield in a constant ready position but I wasn't going to be the first to complain.

"Look!" Percy suddenly exclaimed, relief filling his voice as he pointed ahead to where dark shapes were looming out of the mist. As we got closer I could see they were trees— trees white as death with twisted trunks, gnarled branches and no leaves to speak of. But still, they were trees, and I wasn't complaining. The fog was slowly fading out as we drew nearer.

"Not exactly something to be thrilled about," Thalia commented, holding her spear just a little bit tighter. "Anything could be hiding in those trees."

"Anything could've been hiding in the mist," Nico countered, but I noticed he hefted his Stygian Iron sword a little bit higher.

"She's right," Hector said. "Those trees could be cover for an ambush."

"What would ambush us?" I asked tightly. From what I had read, monsters didn't plan ambushes; the came at you yelling and breathing fire while making as mush noise as possible. If they were travelling in groups they might have the presence of mind to surround you; that was about the extent of their planning abilities.

"Some subjects are best left alone," Percy grimaced, Riptide held in front of him as he advanced towards the tree line. Now that we got closer I could see the trunks were packed tightly together with almost no room to move in between them.

On the bright side, the fog was slowly giving away to a low, grey sky with weak light filtering through, catching the dead trunks and throwing long shadows across the ground.

"Oh, yes," Thalia commented sarcastically. "So much better than the fog." We carried on for hours; there seemed to be no presence of time on the Island of Damnation, just the same constant grey sky.

"Clearing up ahead," Hazam suddenly said, his staff gripped tightly in one hand. The other held his wood-and-leather Darker shield. "Make camp for rest?"

"Sounds good to me," I added. My arm was killing me and my feet felt blistered and sore. I knew that a warm drink, a fresh meal and three hours sleep would serve me well. The island seemed to sap my energy, leaving a dull buzz in my head and a heavy feeling closing around my limbs.

"We'll rest shortly," Percy decided as we neared the clearing, a decently round are of about twenty feet with soft dirt underfoot and logs to sit on. It would be all too easy for us to drop our guard, I knew. Percy had already placed down his shield and was loosening the straps of his armor; Thalia's spear was lying on the ground and her bow was unstrung.

"What are you two doing?' I demanded hotly, stepping right up to where Percy was trying to sit and pulling him to his feet. "We're still in enemy territory, fools! Pick up your shield, Percy, you're supposed to be the Captain."

Looking suitably embarrassed Percy brought his shield back to a loose ready position, Riptide resting against his thigh, and took stock of the situation. I could feel his mind working and almost let out a sigh of exasperation. It was taking too long.

"Three guards," I ordered, picking Percy, Hector and Thalia. "Take the perimeter, make sure nothing gets close. Hazam, get a little bit of firewood; Nico, gather as many rocks as you can. I'll start preparing a meal." We had short rations in our bags that mainly consisted of dried fruits, salted meat and bread.

"We shouldn't be lighting a fire," Thalia warned, her back turned to me and her eyes scanning. "Too much smoke."

"I know," I replied, arranging the firewood that Hazam had gathered into a shallow pyramid, taking Nico's rocks and slotting them underneath so that it looked as if I ere burying them. The rocks were sitting atop the kindling and under the large wood, right where the center of the heat would be.

I pulled a spare shirt out of my bag and doused it with water, making sure it was suitably wet. Then I lit the fire and quickly draped the damp cloth over it so no smoke would rise.

"I really don't see the point in this," Percy said from where he was standing guard. The others, however, seemed to have caught on and were nodding slowly.

While the fire burned I took a quick trip into the nearby trees looking for leaves to act as flavoring. Even a pine needle or a berry could work for what I had in mind, but the forest was entirely dead so I returned defeated. By that time the fire was smoldering under the blanket, trying to get started but trapped by lack of oxygen and the moisture of my shirt. No smoke had been created.

I tore off the shirt, reached in carefully and pulled out the three rocks, which had turned black and were painful to touch. Carefully setting them down I grabbed a pot of water and set it atop of the rocks to boil.

"Brilliant," Percy admired when he saw what I was doing. "I could've just made the water boil with a little bit of will, but that was still brilliant."

We took turns between eating, sleeping and standing guard until all of us were fed and suitably rested. Feeling a lot better than I previously had, I tightened my armor straps, slung the duffle over my shoulder and kicked my shield up onto my arm.

We wove in and out of the narrow, dead trunks, ears alert for any sound that would alert us of an attack. Every ten minutes or so Percy would signal for a stop and we would all freeze, listening intently for anything that would alert us of the sound.

"You know," Thalia said as she ducked under a low-hanging branch. Her voice was hushed but it seemed boomingly loud in the silent, white forest. "I'm starting to think we're travelling a whole lot faster on foot than we would with horses, so a days' ride probably means we're close to the stream already."

"I'm starting to think you're right," Percy agreed, holding up a closed fist to signal our stop. Listening intently, my ears picked up a slight gurgling sound, carried by the wind and coming from the direction we were headed. The others heard it, too, and smiles broke out.

"We're almost out of this dammed forest," Percy announced, looking around to make sure that nothing was happening.

"Don't drop you're guard," Hector warned as we started forwards again. "The stream doesn't mean salvation; we're still on and Uncharted Isle."

"Why haven't they been charted?" I asked, and the Prince of Troy sent me a funny look.

"Would you want to chart this gods-forsaken hell hole?" He asked.

"Point taken."

Percy shushed us and we continued forwards, shields up, ears listening as the sound of the stream grew closer. After half an hour we finally emerged from the forest to find ourselves on a wide-open plain of dead, yellow grass, buffeted by a strong wind that came constantly in from the north.

"Well, this is a sorry place if I've ever seen one," Percy grimaced, leaning against the wind. I clutched my shield a bit tighter, scared that the wind might grab it and pull me away.

"Look!" Hazam suddenly exclaimed, pointing across the plain. "Across river! Mist reappeared!" The plains ended in a roaring, raging river over thirty feet wide, crashing against rocks and throwing up huge plumes of mist. Even with the wind constantly blowing the roar of the water was mighty, filling my ears with its constant sound. Thalia and Nico looked decidedly uneasy at this; Percy smiled.

Sure enough, on the other side of the bank, the thick mist had rolled in again and was blocking our view of the other side. I felt an uneasy shift go through the group.

"Too bad we left the lanterns behind," Thalia muttered, shooting a glare at Percy. The Prince grinned apologetically.

"Maps didn't call for mist," he said as way of an excuse. "Come of, standing here gaping isn't going to move that river _or_ clear that mist." He turned back to me with a mocking grin on his face, only to have it slide off as his eyes focused on a point behind his shoulder. His face went slack and his eyes widened in fear, all blood leaving his head and making his bright green eyes stand out in contrast to the pale skin.

"Run," he whispered. I blinked, not fully understanding what he was saying. I had seen Percy stand up to any number of enemies: Barons, British, Arcadians, rogue Greeks, even the most horrible monsters, without batting an eyelid. And now he was telling me to run.

"Run!" He repeated, yanking my arm and throwing me forwards. I stumbled for a second before regaining my balance and bolting without a second thought. Anything that could scare Percy, I didn't want to have to fight it.

"Ádi Stratoú!" Thalia yelled from beside me, sprinting for all she was worth. "Hades army! Run!" I cast a look over my shoulder to see men emerging from the trees, dressed in filthy rags holding torches and gleaming swords. I couldn't make out any features, and from the reactions of the crew I didn't want to.

"To the river!" Percy commanded, his massive shield slung over his back as he ran.

"We'll never make it across," I panted as the men behind us charged, yelling out blood-curdling war cries. Percy looked at me, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Who said we're going across?" He asked, pulling ahead of me and skidding to a halt right on the riverbank. He plunged Riptide into the dirt and then stood there, his arm out front of him, his bow creased in concentration as he seemingly glared at the water.

Then, with a yell, he brought his arm up straight above his head _and the river followed it_, arcing twenty feet into the air and forming a tunnel to the other side.

"Go!" Percy commanded, turning so he was facing towards the approaching men— and his crew. I didn't need a second invite. I plunged down the bank and ran, my feet getting stuck in the wet sand as I went. I could hear Thalia beside me squelching along just the same as I was, most of her former grace gone as she made a mad dash for the other bank.

I reached it and pulled myself up just in time to see Hazam, the slowest of the group, stumble and fall. Thalia leaned down to help Hector up as Nico pulled himself out of the river, turning anxiously towards where his Captain was torn by indecision.

There were too many of them, even for Percy, even with the curse of Achilles to keep him alive. The wise decision would be to drop the river and run with us, leading me to the cave of Arachne and forgetting about Hazam. Better to lose one of us than two.

With a yell, Percy bunched himself up and surged forwards, the river following him as he went. He slammed into the nearest Ádi, throwing them back and sweeping at least a quarter of the men away in that massive wave. The water continued to surge, reaching from the bank, flowing over the grass and turning the ground into a swarming, sweeping ocean of chaos.

Finally it settled, the water flowing back to the river and leaving the Ádi spluttering and sprawled out on the group. Percy was standing protectively in front of Hazam, Riptide held in one arm and his shield in the other.

The Ádi charged.

Percy smiled.

The first two men to reach him were dispatched in seconds, their thrusts parried without ease and Riptide leaping to their skins. Percy swept low, sword wheeling in a massive arc as he took out another warrior at the knees.

The continued to come as Percy moved forwards, bringing the fight to them, his massive shield clanging against helmets as Riptide spun in a terrifying arc of light. Soon Percy was surrounded by warriors, jumping on his armor, clinging to his shield and pulling down his sword.

Finally Percy was yanked to the ground, arms and legs pinned, his sword stripped from his body and cast aside. There were just too many of the Ádi swarming over him, and even with all his new strength Percy couldn't shake them off. Hazam, too had been disarmed as was now being tied up. The young Darker was struggling back and forth, tugging at his bonds and spitting at his captors.

"Go!" Percy yelled, seeing us staring at him from across the bank. "Go find the coin! Bring the _Argo_ around to find us! We'll be fine!" One of the Ádi brought his sword pommel down on Percy's head, intending to knock the Prince out. It didn't work.

"Go!" Percy yelled again before his was smothered in Ádi and dragged off in chains.

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**So, what did you guys think? A massive thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, as always. **

**Again: Go check out Reading Brotherband Chronicles by elliefs. I gave her permission to use the story, and it's awesome. **

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	25. Chapter 25

**So, one of my longer chapters. Also a relatively quick update, which I guess is good for you guys. **_  
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**Enjoy.**

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_Percy_

The Ádi village, at least, had sunlight. Hazam and I were dragged across the Island of Damnation in chains, our weapons taken from us and blades all around pointed at the Darker. If it had been just me, alone, it would've been all too easy to break the chains, kill the leader and merely walk away as they threw everything they had at me. But that would mean leaving Hazam behind to the mercy of the Ádi, which was something I wasn't willing to do.

The boat that took us across the water was a crude, square barge with a tattered flag hanging from the side, dropping down in the absence of wind. The Ádi rowed with oars made from tree sticks, bringing us across the water to their home.

Where we would be bought.

Hazam and I would be sold off to the highest bidder— the person who thought we would be worth the most in a fight. We would be returned our weapons— no shields or armor, just my sword and Hazam's staff— and then given a few days to fine-tune our skills. Then, when our new owner thought we were ready, he would put us on the market.

See, the Ádi had their own way of learning to fight. They would lead raids— sometimes to the outlying islands, sometimes to places as far as Teutland or Arcadia— and bring back prisoners. The kidnappers would then sell those prisoners off to Owners— privileged men usually who cared nothing for their slaves except to earn a profit off of them. The Owners would put their slaves up on the market as registered Dummies, and every week a Show would be gathered. Ádi from all over the city would gather in the bleachers, money exchanging hands as the Dummies were forced to stand in the middle of the Arena, facing the crowd.

Then, one by one, the Dummies would be chosen to fight.

It wasn't a Roman style game, where warriors were pitted against trained fighters for the entertainment. Ádi warriors— meaning most every man in the town— would pay money for a certain dummy and the two would go into the arena, where the warrior got to fine-tune his fighting skill on a helpless prisoner.

The better the Dummy got, the more soldiers he defeated, meant more people wanted to fight him. The price for that Dummy went up, as did the demand. Higher and higher ranks of Ádi would start paying for an opportunity to fight.

Hazam and I were going to be sold as Dummies.

We would be forced to fight in the arena.

For myself I had no worry; I was invincible, and I knew the training I had gone through at the hands of my dad and the mentor Chiron would mean I could handle anything the Ádi were able to throw at me— probably. Hazam, on the other hand, was an inexperienced warrior not used to fighting real opponents— mush less someone as fierce and fearsome as the Ádi.

They were a warrior tribe, dressed in crude leather clothes stitched up at many places and splattered in an unidentifiable liquid. They smelled like week-old fish that had been left under the sun to rot. Surrounded as we were, with Ádi on every side, the smell was overpowering.

Like the Darkers, they were on the smaller side— barely topping five and a half feet at average height for a male. But they were bulky and armed with their favored short sword or spear, and generations living on the Uncharted Isles had left them ferocious and strong. They were bulkier than either me or Hazam, short and stocky with little to no neck and wide shoulders.

Worst of all was their face. It was flat, with a squished nose in the middle, small ears and squinted, dark eyes that glared at us with hatred. Their skin was dark and thick, peeling from sunburn in many places. One of them caught me looking and bared his teeth in a sign of challenge.

They were sharpened to fangs, stained yellow and missing in several places. He caught my revulsion and snarled, grinning some more and touching his hand to the sword at his side. I felt a shiver of fear run down my spine.

The Ádi were not someone to be taken lightly. If Hazam was thrown into the arena with one of them, even an infantry soldier, he would be mercilessly killed— something I couldn't afford. I had grown to like the small, loyal Darker who looked up to me unswervingly. He was brave and independent, following orders without a second thought and I had no doubt if I told him, right here and now that we were going to fight our way out he would jump to it without a seconds hesitation.

No. It would be better to bide my time and escape when possible than to rush into something now. I could make an impression in the arena; maybe even kill a few of their top warriors while still finding a way to keep Hazam out of the way. On the boat ride here I had explained to him in hushed voices what would happen once we reached the town. The young Darker had shrugged and relaxed against the boat, taking in the situation while not fully understanding it.

Now we were sitting in a crude hut, still chained and forced to find a comfortable position on the rough stone ground. We would be auctioned off tomorrow, I knew, after we had been cleaned up and ordered to look presentable. The captors wanted to make good money off of their slaves, and for that they needed us to look fresh and ready to fight.

Hazam scooched over, his hands behind his back and sweat dribbling down his face. It was hot in the hut.

"Break my leg," was the first thing he said, his voice perfectly serious and his face set in determined lines. I did a double take.

"I'm sorry?"

"Break my leg," he repeated. "You say Owners want us to be in tip-top fighting shape. You break leg, I no longer fight good, Owner no want me." He shrugged again. "Safe."

"Broken legs heal," I told him. "As soon as you're able to stand they'll throw you out into the arena again."

"But you escape us," he said, his eyes alight with hope. "By then Dawn Rider find way to escape and we return to _Argo_, safe. Worth a broken leg."

"I think you're overestimating my ability to come up with plans," I grimaced. "We need Annabeth for that." Again, he nodded.

"Daughter of Athena would be good," he agreed. "But you know land. You know how Ádi think. Come up with way to get us out and count on Annabeth to find us." I looked at him, surprised at this new revelation. Of course! I didn't have to get us off of this god-forsaken island— all I had to do was get us out of the village and near the coast. Then, if worst came to worst, I would summon a sea creature to bring us back to the _Argo_.

We could, of course, just wait for Annabeth and the rest of our expedition to find the coin and come looking for us, but I didn't want to put them in that kind of danger. Best for us to escape whenever we could, making a break for it and then finding a safe spot to hunker down until my crew came and found us. If anyone could do that, they could. Hazam was right; plus, I had some Nectar and Ambrosia in the bag they had taken from me that would heal his leg with no problem.

We might just get out of this alive.

"Okay," I nodded, a plan starting to form in my head as the pieces fell together. I would have to see how things went, where the arena was, what kind of security they had, but after that I had no doubt it would be doable. Hard, yes, but probably doable. "But we'll wait until someone's bought the two of us off. That way you're already a registered Dummy and they can't put you somewhere else."

"Good plan," Hazam nodded relaxing against the back of the wall. "We'll get out of here, Dawn Rider. No fear."

_Annabeth_

"That's it," Thalia said, nodding towards the tunnel entrance in front of me. I gulped, clutching my dagger a little tighter. The entrance to Arachne's cave was round, about ten feet in diameter and completely, utterly black.

"May as well get moving," Hector urged me from my side. We had planned it out on the walk here. The Prince of Troy would lead the way, dealing with any monsters that came close. Thalia would stay by my side the whole time, helping me in the fight with Arachne, and Nico would bring up the rear. The plan had originally been for Percy in all his invincibility to escort me, but now he was gone and that was out of the question.

I forced the thoughts of Percy out of my mind, knowing this wasn't the time to dwell on such matters. As soon as Arachne was dead and the coin was in my hand we would race back to the _Argo_ and take the village by storm, winning back Percy and Hazam and maybe wiping out the Ádi while we were at it.

"May as well," I gulped, adjusting my shield and stepping closer to the entrance. It was like a giant hand was pulling me forwards, trying to grab me and throw me into the hole headfirst where Arachne could kill me.

"I'll take point," Hector said, sensing my reluctance and stepping in front of me, walking quickly to the entrance with his sword drawn. I had to force myself from letting out a relieved sigh; my fear of spiders was like a physical thing, trying to force its way from where I had shoved it down and into my brain, causing me to turn and run.

I stemmed it with logic, letting it wash over my head and soothe my nerves like a wave of cool water on a hot day. I was accompanied by three of Greece's best warriors, one of whom literally made his home in underground areas. Spiders weren't something to be scared of; they were tiny creatures that scuttled away if you so much blew at them. Arachne, like everything else, was just a person, one that could be tricked and deceived and, above all, killed.

I could do this.

We descended the slope slowly, feet scrabbling for purchase on the wet, uneven ground. Thalia, bless her rebellious spirit, had kept a torch and now held it in front of her, illuminating about ten feet into the gloom. Still, I was grateful for the light as we slowly moved farther and farther into the pitch black tunnel. Hector led the way, his sword out in front of him and his guard up. I felt slightly more at ease with the Prince of Troy leading the way; he was one of Greece's foremost warriors and damn good with his sword. Anything that came at us, he and Nico would be able to deal with it.

It was the same for Thalia. Having her at my side, her spear clutched in one hand and the horrible face of medusa in the other, eased the ball of tension in my stomach a little bit. Thalia would give any of the men a run for their money in a fight, that I knew. She could help me with Arachne— if worst came to worst she could stand from a distance and pick off spiders with her bow.

Suddenly something detached itself from the roof and flew at us, shrieking as it went. Immediately four Greek shields went up as we all ducked behind, bodies tense. Hector's sword arced through the air, catching the light as it went and striking the unseen enemy dead-on.

The bat dropped to the ground without a sound, cut neatly in half by the blade of Hector's sword. We stopped for a moment, breathing heavily while Hector wiped his blade clean.

"My heart's racing too much to admit," Thalia muttered to me as we continued down, weapons held a little tighter. "I can't believe we all—" her words were cut short as a mighty roar shook the cavern.

"That's for real, I think," Hector called over his shoulder, his words far too light for the situation he was facing. Out of the gloom, marching towards us with a massive club held in one hand, was a ten-foot-tall giant, wearing only a mottled loincloth. His eyes looked like they were on fire.

"Bugger," Hector said. "I'll deal with him and be back in a couple of minutes. Carry on, then." The giant, apparently, didn't like this dialogue. He took a step forwards, roared once more, opened his mouth wide and blew fire at the Prince of Troy.

"Whoa!" Hector exclaimed, rolling into a ball and covering himself with his shield. "That's new." The massive club swung down and he danced to the side, but he missed the left hook that the giant threw. It caught him in his chest and sent him flying against the tunnel wall.

"Go!" he repeated, ducking just in time as the club slammed into the side of the wall. Thalia and I exchanged looks before she took off running. I followed, with Nico keeping to the rear.

"Wolves in your hills!" Hector yelled from behind us, dodging another swipe and diving out of the way as a stream of fire shot by.

"Women in your beds!" Thalia called as we sprinted down the tunnel.

Linebreak

"Telekhines," Thalia told me as we slowed to a walk. The cavern was lit up by an eerie, green light now and we exited the tunnel, coming to a stop as the ceiling opened up and the walls stretched to either side, forming a massive cave of a room where we couldn't even see the ceiling.

"Do we have to fight them?" I asked quietly, observing the half fish, half dog with a little bit of human mixed in there creatures that stood in front of us. They were motionless, eyes not even focused on us— but they blocked the entrance to the massive cavern ahead. I could feel in my gut that cavern was where Arachne was waiting for me to come so she could kill me.

"I should think so," Thalia answered, clutching her spear a little tighter. "Pity you'll have to face Arachne alone if I'm dealing with them."

"I'll do it."

I nearly spun around in shock before reminding myself the son of Hades was still following us, his stygian iron sword clutched in one hand. He had been sticking to the shadows, moving in absolute silence and I had nearly forgotten he was there.

"There's at least a dozen of them," Thalia said doubtfully, and Nico shrugged. His all-black armor glinted in the half-light.

"Help me open a gap to let you two through," he suggested. "Then you run, and I'll deal with the rest."

"Same way Hector dealt with that giant?" I demanded, and Nico shrugged.

"He's not dead yet," the boy assured me. "Still fighting, the two of them, and I'm sure Hector's got something up his sleeve." His face hardened all of a sudden. "Now go. Or do you want to leave Percy with the Ádi any longer than need be?"

He had a point. Besides, if anyone could deal with the Telekhines it would be Nico— he was fast, he was strong and I wasn't totally convinced he could actually be killed, considering he was a son of Hades. His dad must have some say in that.

"Let's go, then," Thalia grunted, nearing the Telekhines with her spear at the ready. Still, they didn't move.

"Do you guys just want to let us…" she trailed off, creeping nearer to the group. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking the entrance to the cavern we needed to get to with almost no space in between them. Because they stood at roughly seven feet tall it seemed like there was a black wall in front of us.

Thalia crept nearer.

One of them moved.

His curved sword seemed to appear out of thin air as he snapped at Thalia, jaws opening wide as he prepared to swallow her head.

Thalia caught the swing on her shield, flicked it aside and drove her spear through the stomach of the Telekhine, watching as he exploded into dust. I saw movement off to her left and yelled out in warning as a second Telekhine lunged, blade moving to behead her. There was no way Thalia could spin in time to block that.

The Telekhine disintegrated.

I looked to see Nico standing there, his Stygian Iron sword held in both hands. "Go!" he yelled, switching to a one-hand grip and picking up his shield before charging the group. Thalia cut down another one of the beasts and I followed her, my knife hissing through the air as it caught one in the leg. It shouldn't have been a fatal blow, but the Telekhine still burst into bright yellow dust. I remembered what Hector had told be about Celestial bronze and how it could kill monsters with a single touch.

And then we were through and Nico was behind us, shield swinging and sword flashing as he was slowly driven back up the tunnel by the group of Telekhines, their jaws snapping and their swords swinging from all angles.

Finally, he disappeared into the gloom.

"Back to back," I ordered Thalia in a quiet voice, looking around uncertainly. The ceiling was lost in the gloom, as were the walls. We had moved to the center of the cavern, weapons ready and eyes scanning for something, _anything, _to appear out of the gloom.

Then, at the middle of the room, I saw it. A silver coin sitting atop a pedestal at least five feet tall and made out of pure gold. The coin seemed to emit a light of its own, glowing around the cavern but somehow not dispelling the gloom.

"There it is," Thalia whispered, moving a step closer to it. I made sure to keep by back pressed firmly against hers as we moved towards the coin. My mind was whirling with possibilities. Maybe Arachne had gone to help her minions? Maybe she was out for groceries? Maybe someone had already killed her?

We drew closer to the pedestal, Thalia leading the way when she suddenly stopped. "Annabeth, look," she whispered, pointing to something I couldn't see. Slowly we shuffled a hundred and eight degrees, keeping out backs pressed together, until I was able to make out a carpet of shimmering, interlinked threads that surrounded the pedestal like a magic carpet, stopping us from getting to it.

It was a spider web.

A laugh rang out the cavern, high and loud. Both Thalia and I jumped and turned so our backs were against the web, facing whatever came our way. I scanned desperately into the dark, looking for the source of the noise. My knife was clenched tightly in my hand, ready for use.

I felt something on my leg and looked down carefully, trusting Thalia's senses to alert me if anything drew nearer. When I did I felt like screaming in terror, but I caught the sound and forced it back down my throat with some difficulty.

A spider was crawling up my leg.

Calmly as I could I reached down with the blade of my knife, picked it up and flicked the vile thing away into the darkness, keeping my face a blank mask. I was pleased to feel the terror inside shrink just a little.

The laugh came again. It ran my blood cold as it echoed around the cavern, bouncing off the walls, getting into my head and sticking there like some kind of vile strand of web. I shook the illusion away.

"Arachne!" I called out, pleased that my voice didn't crack. "Show yourself!" There was a moment of prolonged silence before something dropped from the ceiling, stopping inches from the ground and flipping over so it landed on its feet. I made out a web supporting it.

I tensed as Arachne walked towards us, preparing myself for some monstrous deity that would be so horrible, so ugly it would shock us, allowing her to kill us both without a second thought.

Arachne came into the light. Instead of a monster she was a woman, tall and thin with pale skin and long, dark hair that flowed around her as if she was submerged in water. She was dressed in all black from head to toe, including black shoes and a strange weapon clutched in her hand. I couldn't make out the details from where I stood but I saw the glint of a blade and decided it must be dangerous.

Her face would've been beautiful if it weren't for the eyes— and the pincers. Bulbous and black, they stared at us from four times as many sockets as there should have been. Her mouth was stretched and flat, with two horrible fangs jutting out from either end, frothing and snapping as she took us in.

She spoke in a surprisingly normal voice.

"Daughter of Athena," she hissed, all eight eyes focusing on me. "Come to steal my coin, have you?" Stemming my fear, I took half a step forwards I tried to sound brave.

"We come from the ship _Argo, _flagship of Greece and captained by Perseus Jackson himself. We're on royal delegation to slay you and take back to Greece what's rightfully hers." I gestured behind me. "The Mark of Athena, gifted from the Riders of Rome to my mother and stolen by your cowardice." I held my blade in front of me, hoping the sight of Celestial bronze would intimidate the monster. "Step aside and unravel your web, Arachne, and you may live. Resist and we'll send you straight to Tartarus."

I thought it sounded brave and noble— the kind of speech Percy may deliver. Arachne regarded the two of us for a long moment, before throwing back her head and laughing, pincers clacking together as she did.

"You think fancy words will intimidate me, daughter of Athena?" she asked once she was done. "Do you know how many of your kind I've faced before? If you wish I can show you their skulls! Or I've made myself a crown out of their weapons." She studied my knife intently. "The cursed blade of the Captain," she said quietly. "How brave of you to carry it. That will make an excellent addition to my collection."

"You'll not be getting it," I snapped, surprised at how brave my voice sounded. "By the time Nico's finished with your servants, you'll be dead on the floor and _I_ will have the Mark in my hand." Then, not giving her an opportunity to reply I lunged, my knife slicing forwards. I put all the force possible behind the stab while still keeping my balance, making sure to lunge forwards with my left leg so I didn't overextend.

Arachne hissed in surprise and leaped backwards, just dodging the tip of my blade. Her hiss turned into a laugh, right hand coming from behind her back to swing at me with her sword. It was a horrible weapon, obsidian black and pure as night. The handle was made of eight interweaving strand of metal, twisted together to form pockets for her fingers. The blade was jagged and uneven, reaching three feet out and bending viciously. On the pommel lay another blade, jutting out three inches or so but reflecting wickedly in the light, proving it was sharp beyond measure.

I angled my shield and watched it bounce off. Thalia had discarded of her spear now and nocked and arrow on her bow, stepping sideways so that she had a clear shot at Arachne. "Freeze!" She barked, bringing the bow back to a full draw and firing almost in an instant. The next second another arrow was on the way. I knew how good a shot Thalia was— and how powerful her short recurve bow was. I was shocked when Arachne turned, dodging one arrow and slicing the second out of mid-air. Trying to use this distraction to my advantage I lunged, sweeping sideways with my shield.

Arachne hissed and backed up, her eyes alight. "Not bad, daughter of Athena!" she cackled. "You wish to play with distance weapons?" Before I could respond she launched up into the air, doing a backwards flip and disappearing into the gloom. I backed up until I was standing next to Thalia, holding my shield protectively.

Then, from somewhere to the right of where Arachne had disappeared, a dart sailed past my ear and stuck into the ground. It was, just like everything else, pure black with a white substance in it that made me shudder as to what would happen if it struck me.

"Miss!" Arachne cackled, now from behind. I spun around, bringing my shield up just in time to block another dart. As soon as it struck the shield it exploded, the white goop streaming out of its casing and surrounding my shield, growing and expanding and covering the surface with shocking speed. Yelling, I flung the disc away and drew the sword that was strapped to my thigh, eyes scanning back and forth.

I did not want to get his by one of those darts.

Thalia, meanwhile, had sent a stream of arrows in the direction the dart had come from, hearing them ring off of stones and clatter down to the floor.

The Arachne was there, knocking Thalia aside with surprising strength and lunging at me. I parried with my sword and swung with my knife, disengaging and spinning away. Arachne was already coming again, obsidian sword hissing through the gloom in a series of bewildering strikes, cuts and slashes. I was forced backwards, trying to stay close to the coin— which was also my light source. Without it I would be dead in seconds.

I caught a thrust on my knife and flicked it aside before going on the attack, swinging overhand and sideways simultaneously with my sword and knife respectively. Arachne parried the knife swipe with her shield and I used the momentum to swing low, spinning around and cutting up with both weapons.

Arachne dodged backwards and I found myself horribly off balance as the spider goddess lunged, sword arcing forwards to strike me in the stomach. I knew the force of the blow would shear right through my armor, cutting into my chest and no doubt killing me. I had failed, just like the rest of the Athenians who tries to retake the coin. Greece would burn because of me.

Dual throwing knives took the sword on the blade, throwing it to the side and causing Arachne to lurch off balance. Taking this to my advantage I spun around and backed up again, holding both weapons out in front of me. I knew of only two people who carried throwing knives on them.

One was Percy, who I was ninety-nine percent sure wasn't here.

The other…

"Hey," Hector of Troy said, stepping out of the shadows with his weapons drawn. Arachne spun towards him.

"Hey," Nico called, seeming to melt into existence while wiping his blade clean of dust. Arachne was now surrounded at three points, spinning in a circle quickly to keep us all in her line of vision.

The spider goddess looked decidedly uneasy.

"Hi," Thalia greeted, appearing stepping closer with her bow up at half draw. Arachne let out a panicked hissed, her eyes settling on me.

"You know the myth, daughter of Athena," she hissed. "You have to be the one to slay me in a fair fight."

"Actually," Hector called out, his voice travelling far and clear. The Prince of Troy quirked a smile, his semi-curly hair falling into his eyes. "You forfeited that right the moment you had a giant attack Annabeth. And the Telekhines." Hector shrugged, still smiling adamantly. "I guess you lost at your own game, spider goddess." She let out an insane his and the next moment a dart was hurling through the air towards Hector.

His shield came up at a thirty-degree angle to the shot, catching it so it bounced off and continued across the floor instead of sticking. As if communicating through some other form besides speech, the four of us moved in.

My breath was coming out a little quicker now. We had the spider goddess cornered, surrounded by four of the finest warriors in the world. The only thing for her to do was to lay down arms and die an honorable death now.

I doubted that would happen.

"She still has to kill me!" Arachne yelled, pointing at me with her sword. I saw a flicker of movement from the blade as it spat one of the web-filled darts at me while my gaze was focused past Arachne, on Hector who was nodding.

Before I could really register what had happened my knife flashed upwards, slicing the dart in half inches away from my chest and watching it drop to the ground. Arachne physically staggered, as if I had punched her in the throat.

"Who— who are you?" she asked in disbelief as I stepped over the broken dart, headed towards her. Her face looked decidedly uneasy now and she stood in a defensive stance, sword drawn and shield up.

"I'm Annabeth Chase," I replied as she lunged. I dodged sideways, ducking the blow before coming up and delivering a rapid series of over-hand and side cuts, still advancing steadily on her as she retreated. "I'm a daughter of Athena, born and raised in the heart of Greece." I cut overhand. "At age five I was left in Britain to learn their ways." Both blades clang simultaneously off of her shield and sword, causing Arachne to stumble with the force of the fall. I realized my voice was rising as I went. "Greatest tactician to ever walk the earth, wielder of the cursed blade and retriever of Athena's mark." _Clang, clang, clang. _My strikes were coming quicker now, cutting down from all angles and delivered with perfect force. "Trained by Hector the great, protected by Perseus of the _Argo_ and now," my hands moved in a blur, catching Arachne's blade between my two, twisting it away and kicking her shield aside with contempt. My knife flashed once, twice across her throat, before I stuck both blades into her chest. "Slayer of Arachne, thief of the coin."

I twisted my knife, yanking it out of her body and watching he drop to the floor. I could see the light leave her eyes and looked back at Thalia uncertainly.

"Um… I probably should've asked this earlier: can I actually _kill _her?"

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**Not even a cliffhanger ending! Whoa!**

**Thank you to everyone for their reviews. Since my updating schedule is totally messed up anyways, I'll make a deal: if we hit 900 reviews I'll update the moment that happens. Otherwise, it'll probably come in a week or so. **

**REVIEW**


	26. Chapter 26

**So, you guys did it. Here's another chapter :)**

**Also, go check out elliefs and her story about this one! She deserves some credit, especially for a one councillor Joku at the end.**

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_Percy_

I entered the arena, blinking in the sunlight and gripping Riptide tightly in my hand. Facing me were three Ádi warriors, all holding their favored short swords. The stadium was packed to the brink with Ádi gathered around, shading their eyes from the sun and staring intently at the four of us. The warriors watched greedily; the rest of them cheered a catcalled for my head to be loped off.

Hazam and I had been bought as a package deal for a good deal of money— the Ádi that had taken us had lost several in doing so and were all too happy to collect a large sum for the death of their friends. True to the plan I had snapped Hazam's ankle— and been beaten for it— in order to take the Darker out of danger. Now it was me facing down three of the fierce warriors, my sword held tightly.

Last minute best changed hands in the bleachers surrounding us as the Ádi shifted impatiently, grinning at me with their horrible teeth. They weren't lower rank soldiers; all three of them were lieutenants, used to fighting and killing but not high enough in rank to be arrogant. They would be dangerous opponents, I thought grimly.

The talking in the stadium died down to a whisper as the bell was rung, signaling the start of the fight. Immediately the Ádi circled east, intending to put the rising sun behind them and put me at a disadvantage. I knew that if I tried to fight a defensive battle, their sheers numbers and lack of fear would overwhelm me quickly. I had to take the fight to them.

"_For Greece!" _I yelled, lunging at the fighter on the left. I wasn't usually one for battle cries but I felt yelling the name of my homeland would be a punch in the gut for them.

Riptide bit into the mans flesh at the base of his neck, killing him in an instant. I yanked my blade free and ducked under a thrust, grabbing the offending wrist and snapping it with a sharp twist, before pulling on it hard and sending the surprised Ádi stumbling. I stuck out my leg, tripping him up before whirling to face the third fighter. He looked angry. Not uneasy, not scared, just angry. They truly were some other kind of breed.

His sword slashed forwards in a blur that clanged off my parry. Retaining his balance the Ádi swung again, this time a thrust aimed at the center of my chest. I dodged to the side and cut with Riptide, leaving a gaping wound across his chest.

Some sixth sense that I had gained over the year's screamed _danger_ from behind me, and without a second thought I hit the ground, rolling to one side just as the second Adi sword broke the space I had been moments ago. Springing to my feet, I faced him off with Riptide circling lazily in the air in front of me.

Fighting with his left hand, the Ádi never stood a chance. I drove him from one side of the arena to the other, Riptide clanging against his desperate parries. I cut from the side, the force of the blow knocking the blade right out of his hand and sending it flying.

He lunged, hands reaching for my throat.

Riptide flashed through the air and sent his head rolling.

I stepped back, panting and leaning on my sword. The arena had gone completely quite as the Ádi watched me cut down three of their lieutenants with seemingly little effort. Angry muttering broke out throughout the stands, the warriors glaring at me with hate-filled eyes. Before anyone could do something a Captain stood up abruptly, drawing his sword and grabbing a shield from the beside him. I reached down and scooped up one of the Ádi short swords, holding it in my left hand and getting a feel for the weapon as the Captain produced a large bag of money, handing it to my owner as he passed.

He was tall and lanky, a sharp contrast to the short, powerful build most Ádi had. He leaped over the railing, landing in a crouch and moving towards me. Now the crowd had started to cheer again. They obviously recognized this warrior and thought he would deal with me, now problem. More money was changing hands, although I saw that it wasn't quite as one sided as before. Some people seemed to be betting on me.

That was comforting.

The bell sounded and the Captain leaped forwards, not wasting a moment as he swung over-hand. I blocked with Riptide and retaliated, short sword biting into his shield and staying there. Disengaging my blade from his I spun back, bringing Riptide around in a screaming arc that was aimed for his chest. The Captain leaped backwards, my sword grazing his chest as he tossed aside his shield. Now it was a fair fight.

The Ádi captain leaped at me, his sword flashing in the sun as he propelled me backwards. His teeth were bared and a low snarling sound emitted from his throat as he came at me savagely, each strike coming at blinding speed and not giving me time to retaliate. The crowd started chanting for him to kill me.

I tried to ignore the pressing voice in my head saying that maybe, just maybe, the Captain was too good for me. It wasn't that he had exceptional skill; instead it was the fact that he came at me with such unrelenting energy, his sword beating against mine time and time again.

Attacking with no fear and no loss of energy, the Captain continued to press me backwards across the arena. My mind searched desperately for a way to take control of this fight.

My back hit the wall and the Captain lunged, screaming in savage triumph as his blade sank into my stomach. The crowd roared their approval, a sound that was cut short when I twisted sideways and hastily retreated, taking a second to regain my bearings.

That's when my confidence started to return. By the way the Captain yanked his blade out of the wicker fencing I could tell her was growing tired, his arms starting to feel heavy and his breath getting ragged. I, on the other hand, was fresh as new and still feeling energized. The Captain came at me again, blade hissing through the air as he pressed on the attack. I continued to duck and weave, Riptide meeting every one of his strokes and flicking it aside.

Then, when I judged the moment was right I struck. I thrust at my chest and instead of dodging aside I lunged forwards, grabbing his wrist and twisting violently. His blade hit the ground as I kicked him solidly in the chest, before spinning in a massive circle and beheading him.

Silence. Once again the arena had fallen into utter silence as the Ádi citizens looked at me not with fear but with something close to caution. I smiled grimly up at the stands, daring anyone to try and fight me. No one did.

Good, I thought. Let them know what Perseus Jackson can do. And by nightfall tomorrow, I would be gone.

_Annabeth_

We explained the situation to Jason, who wasted no time with needless questions or stupid accusations. Instead, he sent Malcolm to go fetch any maps we had of the third Uncharted Isle, before calling a war council with all the senior Greek members. As acting captain Jason should have sat at the head of the table, but it was me who found myself in the high-backed but still comfortable chair while Hector, who was on my left, explained the situation to everyone.

When he finished I half expected chaos to erupt. Instead the councilors all shared looks with each other, seeming to come to a unanimous decision. Leo and the Stolls nodded their heads; Will and Thalia shared a silent agreement and it was Clarisse who spoke first.

"So," the daughter of Ares said, looking around the room as if she were expecting anyone to challenge her. Her eyes landed on me, not in a threatening way but with an intense look. "We get to the island, find this Ádi village and then storm it. Wipe out everyone there, take back Percy and Hazam and then leave."

"It might not be that simple," Hector cautioned. "Half the crew is terrified of the Ádi. I know I don't want to step foot near them without good reason. If we lead them there we could be faced with deserting crew and a slaughter on our hands."

"The crew will stand," Jason countered. "They're all Greeks, the finest warriors that our country has, and the Ádi have made the biggest mistake of their lives. They've taken Percy."

"Even if we fail, Greece will never settle for that," Thalia said, picking up on Jason's train of thought. "The whole armies of Greece will rain down on one Ádi village."

"If we fail," I cut in, stressing the words. "_If. _And from what I see here, we're not going to fail." I looked around the room, seeing a dozen faces glance back at me: the acting crew of the Argo, the strongest ship in all the world, grouped together and prepared to fight for their captain. Hector and Jason, two of Greece's fiercest warriors. Thalia, who was loyal to fault and would die for her Captain. Will, the archer. Leo, the builder. Nico, dark and mysterious who I knew would bring the wrath of Hades down on anyone who touched those he loved. Malcolm, the planner. Piper, the daughter of Aphrodite who could talk her way into the heart of Britain and convince their King to take his own life. And Clarisse, the daughter of Ares. From what I had seen she only listened to people she respected in battle.

And she respected Percy over everyone else, except for her dad.

"So it's official?" I asked, looking around the crew. Nods all around. "Okay. Malcolm, plot us a course for the third island. We're storming the Ádi village."

I walked with Jason up onto the deck where he assembled the crew of the Argo near the front of the boat. We were floating in the water off the coast of Nisí tis Katadíkis, out of the mist and in a weak sunlight. As soon as Malcolm had our course we would be under sail and headed towards the village. It was about a two-day sail from where we were, and then another days hike across the island to get to where the charts _thought_ the village might be.

I was still buzzing about the fact I had defeated Arachne in one-on-one combat. Of course, I couldn't have done it without the help of Thalia, Hector and Nico, but in the end it had been me who had faced her off and me who had killed her. The Mark was below decks in the _Argo's_ treasure chest— which, according to Thalia, couldn't be opened without the active Captain pressing his palm against the lock. I had no doubt Percy would be proud of me when we got him back.

There wasn't even an if in my mind. I had total faith in the Greeks' ability to defeat the Ádi in a fight, despite all I had heard about the fierce warrior tribe. I also knew the chance of Percy being defeated in the Arena was next to nothing, based on the fact that he was invincible.

Soon, we would have our Captain back. And then we would storm the Plains or Modriar and take back the Spring of Immortality.

Linebreak

Stelios of Sparta was more panicked than he had been in a while. Currently the prince of Sparta was hunched down over the back of a horse, fingers clutched into the main and bouncing around on the bare back as he rode the dusty path that led from the beach-front city of Sparta to the larger, more impressive one of Greece.

It had been a perfectly normal day at the market, with Stelios out enjoying the sun and hunting for a new robe. Then the envelope had popped out of mid-air, delivered no doubt by Hermes's Express mail— a service open only to demigods and gods.

Not only had the god of travelers chosen the most inconvenient time to drop an urgent message, he had also charged three Drachmas— the rest of Stelios's spending money for the day. After reading the letter, the Prince of Sparta had started frantically running towards his palace, intent on picking up a ride there. But it was high noon in the market and the stalls were packed to the brink with shoppers, none of whom seemed willing to move for their Prince.

Finally spotting a stable, Stelios had burst inside and been greeted with six stalls of fit-looking racing horses and one old stable hand, who turned to look at Stelios with squinted eyes.

"I need a horse," the he gasped, tired after his uphill sprint towards the stable, all while pushing shoppers out of the way. The old man shrugged in a most casual fashion.

"And I need a bigger stable," he wheezed, turning his back to the young man. "We don't always get what we want."

"You don't understand," Stelios had stressed, making a move for the nearest mount. "Urgent message for the King himself." The old man cackled.

"Try the other one, its got bells on it," he chuckled, shaking his head. Stelios drew himself up to his full height and tried to look royal and commanding.

"I am you prince," he stressed, putting extra emphasis on the last word. Once again, the old man shrugged.

"I didn't vote for you," he said shortly. "No pay, no horse. Six Drachma for a day's rent." Stelios cast an urgent look at the letter in his hand, becoming aware of how urgent the news was. He could try taking one of the steeds by force, but even though Stelios was one of the greatest fighters in Greece the old man was totting a thick wooden cane and Stelios didn't fancy his chance.

"Fine!" he yelled, giving up. He dug around his pockets, grabbing the first thing that came to hand. "Take my—" he took a second to identify the object that was now flying through the air towards the stable owner. "Beach house. Yes, take my beach house. Just give me a bloody horse." Stepping past the old man he grabbed the nearest horse, swinging onto its back and taking off at a gallop down the road.

"Bring it back by midnight!" the old man yelled after him, examining the new keys he had. He snorted, throwing them away into a nearby pile of hay. It was probably some crummy shack anyways.

Stelios galloped along the trail to Greece, hot, shell-shocked and above all, miffed.

He had liked his beach house.

The trail wove through a forest, across the beach and finally up to the palace of Greece. Stelios barreled up the roads, pushing his horse even though the animal was panting and sweating in the heat. The guards at the front let him through quickly and he dismounted, leaving his horse to wander over to the fountain and take a long drink. One of the stable hands could deal with it.

He found the King in his chambers, studying a map of Greece with Joku. Joku was one of Greece's foremost noblemen, a great cavalry fighter but patriotic almost to a fault. Both men looked up as Stelios barged in.

King Pavlos made a point of asking his subjects not to bow for him or show any sign of indifference to their King. Because of this, Stelios often made a point of overdoing all the groveling and scraping just to tease him.

Not now.

"Urgent message," Stelios croaked, his throat parched as he held up the letter. "For the King. Involving Percy."

Immediately it looked as if Pavlos feared the worst. He was all too aware of what the prophecy said: _The son of Poseidon lay dead on the ground, _and when he picked up the letter you could tell he was prepared for that news.

Instead, his shoulders slumped with relief as he read. "Oh, Percy's been captured by the Ádi," he said, almost casually. "With a Darker. That's rather unfortunate. Joku read the letter from beside him, his eyes going wide.

"Preposterous!" he steamed, shaking his head and looking to the King. "Sire, we shall ready the navy and sail at once. Let us bring the armies of Greece down upon the heads of these Ádi and take back our Prince. It will be the largest fleet ever to sail!" Stelios was prepared to join in with a well-time _Huzzah!,_ but Pavlos was all ready shaking his head.

"It says here the _Argo_ is going to save him," the King said firmly. "If they fail— which they won't— then we can prepare the army and march in to save him." He caught Stelios shifting from one foot to the other and shook his head. "Oh, alright. Go on then."

Grinning, the Prince of Sparta unsheathed his sword and thrust it high into the air, his cape billowing around him as he did.

"_Huzzah!"_

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	27. Chapter 27

**So, I'm in a huge rush because we're going on vacation tomorrow and I won't be able to update for ages. Excuse any typos/grammar errors because I haven't had time to reread this.**

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_Percy_

Hazam and I broke out two nights later, scaling the fence around our compound with the help of a nearby water trough, before stopping off quickly at the storage shed outside to gather supplies. The Darker was limping but not badly; his ankle had been setting nicely. Still, I poured a jug of nectar over it and he watched in awe as the slight bump caused by the jutting bone melded back into place and the pain in his ankle fade.

I slung my bag over my back before grabbing the crossbow I had been carrying. Riptide was on my hip and my shield was on my arm; I had retrieved my armor as well. Since our horses were with the other group we stole mounts and then broke out the back, galloping away into the darkness while the Ádi village slept.

I knew that we had come from the west, the far side of the island. That meant the _Argo_ would be landing on the east, where they would get closest landfall. That meant our salvation— if it was there— could be found to the east. We rode into the rising sun, the wind whipping at my hair and whistling past my ears as the horse's hooves beat a steady rhythm on the grass below, eating up mile after mile without tiring. For extra speed both Hazam and I had brought two mounts: one to ride and one to carry our equipment. We switched every four hours.

After riding for twenty hours straight we slowed down, first to a canter, then a trot and finally a walk. I dismounted out of the saddle, groaning as my sore joints were forced to support the weight of my body.

"Will they send search parties?" Hazam asked once I was down, and I nodded.

"Snatchers will be out already," I replied, taking a couple of stiff steps in an attempt to ease my cramped legs. "Since we escaped our owner has forsaken any rights he has on us. We can be auctioned off for an even higher price this time." I groaned and stretched, reaching into my saddlebag for a canteen of water. The horses were drinking from a nearby lake, taking huge gulps of water.

"So are we going to get captured?" Hazam asked, and I had to smile. He had a very blunt way of getting to the corer of a problem. Things were simple to the Darker: either we got caught or we didn't.

"Not a chance in Hades," I answered. "The scouts will be one us like dogs; they'll push their horses until the animals drop, then switch saddles and do it all again." I checked the sun's position; it was about noon. "We escaped around four at night. Breakfast is at six. I'd say as soon as it was discovered we were gone, parties were sent out in either direction. The whole village is probably hunting for us."

Now Hazam looked troubled. "How big a lead do we have?"

"Two hours, maybe three if we're lucky," I replied. "In fact, they're probably right over the horizon right now. I don't think we can make it to the ship." Hazam set his jaw.

"I'm not going back to village," he said firmly. "If we can't make it back to Argo, find a good spot and make finally stand. Show Ádi what we're made out of." I felt a rush in my veins at the thought of that, accompanied by a heavy dose of fear. By dying, I would be leaving Greece alone.

I ignored that fact; instead letting the planning side of me take over. I wasn't one for plans, but over the years I had picked up a few basic things. I scanned the surrounding area.

"Not here," Hazam said, shaking his head. "Too much grass, chance of sneak attack."

"Then where?" I asked. "At least it's open." But Hazam shook his head again. He pointed slightly north.

"Five mile that way," he told me. "Grass turns into desert. Two miles into desert is a pile of rocks. We can make stand there." I was surprised.

"You know this how?" I asked , reluctantly remounting my horse as Hazam swung around to the direction he had chosen. After a second, the pack horses behind us started to move as well. I wouldn't let them be in the way of the fighting; as soon as we were at the outcropping Hazam had described we would set them free.

"Baron of Quomine had a map room," he told me as we set out at a trot. "Once we snuck in, stole maps as revenge. I took one of Isles; thought it was useless until now."

"And you didn't bother to tell us earlier?" I demanded, a little annoyed we had been stumbling through fog while he had known exactly which direction to go. Hazam turned to me and grinned.

"We didn't need it then," he answered, before turning and cantering away. I shook my head, muttering under my breath before kicking my horse and galloping after him.

Linebreak

"Here they come," I said, glancing out to the desert where I could see a line of dust clouds breaking the horizon. The white sand stretched in every direction for at least ten miles, with us in the middle. I was fully armored, my shield over my back and Riptide on my hip. In my hands I held the crossbow. It was a good weapon to have: easy to use, powerful and with the new design, quick to reload. There were two handles: one to pull back the heavy string of the bow and another to slid an arrow in place from the slot on the side.

We had set up defenses to huddle behind— mainly rocks and bundles of hay. Hazam was lounging on the rocks, his bow in one hand and his quiver resting at his side. On leg was tucked up under the knee of the other and he was propped up against a boulder, staring at the advancing armies with something close to boredom. I myself was excited for the fight to come.

"This is only the first wave," I told him, checking again my crossbow was loaded. "The first scouts to reach us. They'll keep coming until the whole village descends upon us." The Darker shrugged.

"Honorable death for any Greek," he said, and I nodded. I could sense his nervousness, but he was doing a good job of hiding it and his face was utterly blank. I walked in a slow circle, looking up at the clear sky and beautiful scenery around us. The sand was pure white, glowing in the sun and sparkling. The heat was beating down as the warmest part of the day started coming around. After being held captive in the relatively small house of the Ádi that owned us, confined to one little room with no entertainment to speak of, the wide-open scenery was exhilarating.

"You know," I smiled, turning my gaze to Hazam. The Darker who wasn't even supposed to be on the ship, the one who had brought this all upon me, who was the reason I was standing here ready to die. Because I knew I would never give in. I would fight until I had either killed every Darker or they had found my Achilles Heel. I regretted nothing. "I always thought if I was gonna die, I might as well go while fighting the Brits." I smiled, gesturing to the advancing party. They were about three miles away now. "But Hell, this seems like as good a day as any to die."

Hazam smiled. The army was getting even closer now and we went to crouch behind the fortification, weapons at the ready. I knew the Ádi were capable bowmen and any moment now arrows would be raining on us.

"I'm glad I'm with you," Hazam told me as we poked our heads over the barricade. I lifted my crossbow up, setting my sights on the nearest Ádi. "The Dawn Rider himself." The Darker shot me a grin. "We are not going to die today, old friend."

_Annabeth_

We led the Greeks on a forced march across the Island, using the three dozen pack horses we had to carry the fifty sets of armor, weapons and heavy shields that would be needed for when we found the Ádi village. Unburdened of any equipment, the physically fit Greeks kept up a steady jog without any need to keep time or rhythm. We were in a clear grass plain and we could see for miles around, but cautions were still being taken: many Greeks wore daggers, short swords or bows on them and some were even carrying lightweight wooden shields in case archers popped out of nowhere. I rode at the front with Jason, Thalia, Nico, Hector and Malcolm. The son of Athena had charts sprawled over his horse and kept dropping pieces of paper, which were picked up by the runners behind him.

"There's a desert up ahead," he told us, raising his voice to be heard over the pounding feet and trotting hooves. "It's about eighteen kilometers across— I think— and there's not much shelter anywhere on it. If we cut through it we might die; if we go around we'll loose half a day."

Jason looked around at out position, before raising a single closed fist and calling the group to a stop. At a signal, the Demeter cabin started handing out snacks and water skins for the tired Greeks, who sank into the grass for a twenty-minute break. The six of us gathered in a circle in the grass with the charts spread in front of us.

"We could send a party," Jason suggested. "Unload the horses, dress up over forty Greeks and head across the desert. I'd pit forty Greeks against the Ádi any day."

"Maybe," Hector countered. "But forty Greeks worn down from the heat, tired to the bone and riding on exhausted horses. There's no point in driving our horses across the desert if we're not even sure that Percy's there."

"That's the problem," Thalia cut in, frustrated. "We have no clue where he is. He could still be at the village; he could be halfway through the desert, he could be on the other side of the island or the two of them could already be at the _Argo_ with the crew who stayed behind. We just have no way of knowing."

"Or they could be dead," Malcolm added, and Thalia swung her glare at him. "Just pointing out all the factors."

"We need a way to find them," Jason said, glancing at the rough charts below. North was a tall mountain range; west led two kilometers before the island ran out at a series of bluffs, south was a large marsh and to the east was us, on the fringes of the desert. "Where would Percy go?"

"Not to the bluffs," Thalia said, shaking her head. "He wouldn't take a chance at the sea, not with Hazam with him. Plus this water's out of Greek control; he might not even have power over it."

"Nor the marsh," Hector added. "Too many trees, no good defensive positions and the Ádi have the whole place charted down to the last leaf. They wouldn't make it five miles."

"Same with the mountains," Thalia said gloomily. "But, of course, this is Percy we're talking about. He may have picked a direction to go in and tried to out-bluff the Ádi, acting unpredictably to throw them off."

"It's too big a risk to go galloping off in a set course," Jason agreed. "I say the only logical thing to do is to continue to the Ádi village under the presumption that Percy hasn't escaped yet. Worst comes to worst we'll occupy the whole place and grab them when they return."

"If they're alive," Malcolm said grimly.

"Are you trying to be pessimistic?" Thalia snapped angrily. "So, what's the plan?" All eyes, including Malcolm's, swung towards me. I looked at the chart for a moment, considering the landscape, the knowledge of the Ádi, what kind of mounts Percy and Hazam would have and how well they knew the landscape. Like Jason had said, there were simply too many factors to consider to just go running off in one direction. Percy and Hazam's lives were in our hands, and I was starting to feel the pressure.

"We'll do as Jason says," I decided eventually, standing up and slapping my knees. I wasn't sure it was the right choice, but it was the logical one. "Chances are they'll want to catch Percy and Hazam, not kill them. When that happens we'll be waiting at the village."

"Sounds good," Jason nodded. "Nico, get the troops ready to—" he stopped, looked around. "Where the Hades has Nico gone off to?" He demanded, spinning in a circle.

"Actually," a voice said from the shade ten feet away. "I think I've got a way we can find Percy." Grinning, Nico stepped into the sun. In one hand he held his sword. The other was gripped tightly on a section of celestial bronze chain. I squinted into the shade, trying to see what was on the other side. Then he tugged on the chain and the dragon stepped out with him.

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